


Manor of Memories

by NoblePureUsurper



Category: Storm and Silence Series - Robert Thier
Genre: Alternate Universe- Childhood Friends, Canon divergence? More like semi-canon convergence, Characters are probably OOC since it's an AU, F/M, Lambrose has a ~2 year age gap or this story would be 1000x more awkward to write, Some cliffhangers but a decent amount of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoblePureUsurper/pseuds/NoblePureUsurper
Summary: In which Lilly and Rick end up becoming best friends as young children after an arranged meeting between their mothers. The years pass and as they become older, their sentiments of platonic companionship for each other become blurred with doubt, jealousy and something else seemingly unclear altogether. An impulsive moment of intimacy alters their relationship entirely only for it to be shattered after a series of irreversible events.Story is also posted on Wattpad and FanFiction.





	1. A-rrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on the idea for this story for quite a while and it took me some time to flesh it out, sit down and write. This is an AU fanfic set around the same time period as the series, occuring years before the first book. However, it's more of a "what if" scenario that exists in a parallel universe of the story where Lilly's age is closer to Mr Ambrose's and they end up meeting as children instead. Lilly's parents are also alive and hence, she and her sisters live with them in their country estate.
> 
> This is my first time writing a story, let alone fanfiction, so feel free to leave a review telling me your thoughts! Feedback is greatly appreciated.

**əˈrīvəl** : the act of reaching a place

* * *

 “Lillian, sit still!” Her mother snapped sharply at her for the third time, as she excitedly squirmed on the carriage bench.

She tried her best to follow her mother’s directions but found that she just could not help herself. She was eager to finally be out of the house and spend the day with Mama– even if that meant being dunked unceremoniously in the bathtub and dressed formally for the occasion.

Being younger than everyone else in the family, with the exception of her baby sister Ella, meant that she did not get out of the house all that often. It was one too many times for Lilly that she looked on in envy when Lisbeth or the twins went out for the day to play with their friends while she was caged in at home, daydreaming about possible adventures awaiting her.

“Mama, where are we going?” Lilly asked, looking up with gleaming eyes at her mom sitting next to her on the bench. Unconsciously, she began to swing her chubby little legs.

Her mother turned away from the carriage window to look at her and sighed, realising that her daughter’s inability to follow directions was rather a hereditary trait, deeply ingrained and seemingly impossible to correct.

“I told you before, Lilly. I received an invitation to visit one of my old friends that I haven’t seen in a while. Your sisters are busy with their daily lessons and Papa took the day off to look after Ella. Since you’ve been wanting to go out, I asked my friend whether I could bring you along and she readily agreed. She has a son about your age and said she wanted you both to meet. But you need to be on your best behaviour. Mama’s friend is a Marchioness.”

“A marsh highness? What’s that?” Lilly frowned. _Did Mama’s friend rule over a swamp?_

“A _Marchioness_ , not a marsh highness. She is a lady in a position of nobility. When you speak to her, always address her as ‘Your Ladyship’. I also need you to act like a lady would during formal occasions. Now, how would that be like?”

“Prim and proper, always polite.” Lilly recited from verbatim, the words branded in her brain from her mother’s frequent lectures.

“Good. And none of your usual antics from home with the servants either. We wouldn’t want Her Ladyship to go into shock from meeting you for the first time.”

Lilly raised her chin defiantly and sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mama.”

Her mother shot her a look. “Of course you don’t. Nonetheless, do not forget what I said- _best_ behaviour.”

“Always, Mama.” Lilly smiled mischievously in return. She picked up the doll sitting in her lap and began to absent-mindedly swing it around.

Mrs Linton turned away from Lilly and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. It seemed that in addition to disobedience, the penchant for dishonesty was also passed on to her daughter.

* * *

When the carriage halted to a stop at their destination, Lilly awoke with a jolt, realising that she must have drifted off to sleep at some point during the ride.

Her mother opened the carriage door and stepped out, holding the door open for her daughter.

Lilly grabbed her doll that had fallen on the floor sometime while she had slept, and slid out of the carriage. Surprisingly, her feet landed on smoothly polished stone of a courtyard and not on mud as she had expected.

“Mrs Linton?” A voice asked somewhere beyond Lilly’s vision.

Lilly cautiously peeked out from behind her mother’s dress to see two servants standing in front of them, clad in footmen’s livery.

“Yes, that would be me.” Her mother responded calmly, a collected façade already in place.

“Welcome to Battlewood, Madam.” The servant on the left spoke as they both bowed deeply. “Hastings, the butler, is currently occupied with a more pressing matter to receive guests and her Ladyship is inside, already awaiting your presence. Allow us to lead the way for you and your daughter instead.”

Mrs Linton gave a curt nod and started off, following the two men walking away from the carriage.

Lilly took a step, ready to keep up with her mother when she looked up and her breath caught, completely unprepared for the sight that lay in front of her.

Battlewood was massive– and most definitely _not_ a swamp. While the country estate that Lilly and her family lived in was impressive enough for compliments, its appearance was nowhere near as breathtaking as this place. It could have been that the novelty of her family’s estate had long worn off on her or the fact that as of late, she was tired of staying at home. Regardless, she stared at what lay in front of her, completely transfixed.

In the centre of the courtyard itself was a behemoth of a sculpted fountain, spraying water in all directions towards the sky. The bright sun glinted off of the water, giving it a sparkling appearance. In front of the manor was a garden, planted with an array of blossoming summertime flowers and freshly trimmed grass, aimed to please even the most dedicated of floral connoisseurs.

However, what stood out the most to Lilly was the manor itself.

It was expansive, seeming to span out on both sides for an immeasurable distance, reminding her of the wings of a bird she had seen in Papa’s zoology book. She had to think for a few moments to recall the name. _An…eagle? Or something like that._

Her memory did not seem to be as sharp as it usually was, considering her current state of distraction. As she looked, she noticed the sides of the manor were supported by a range of pillars with six even taller pillars holding up the front porch to emphasise the manor’s entrance.

“Lilly? Lilly, keep up! We don’t have all day, Her Ladyship is waiting for us inside.” Her mother’s vexed tone was enough to snap Lilly out of her temporary reverie and remind her why she was there in the first place.

The harsh slap of her rapid footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard as she sprinted to catch up with her mother and the two servants. As she stood next to them, her breath came out in quick pants, earning a look of disapproval from her mother.

Lilly took longer than the others to climb up the stairs leading inside the manor, her noticeably smaller stature making the task a tad more challenging. Once inside, she went to stand beside her mother, noticing that the footmen bowed to a lady and announced, “Mrs Linton and her daughter, My Lady.”

“Thank you, Oscar, Allen. That will be all for now.” The lady spoke in a soft, gentle voice as she nodded to them both. The two men bowed again and exited the foyer.

The lady turned to look at her guests and for the first time, Lilly noticed that she was clad in all pink– a colour that she guessed as the lady’s favourite.

“Greetings, Your Ladyship. I wanted to express my utmost gratitude for extending your gracious invitation to us.” Her mother stated demurely, while dipping gracefully into a low curtsy.

“Oh, stop the formalities, my old friend. There’s no need for that between us.” The lady retorted with affectionate familiarity.

She stepped forward, pulling Lilly’s mother in for a long, warm hug. When she let go, both women were smiling at each other.

The lady turned her head and focused her attention on Lilly, an inquisitive gaze honing in on her.

Lilly had the strongest urge to run and hide behind Mama but then she remembered her words earlier in the carriage and did her best to stand still. It was no easy feat for Lilly but she somehow managed to accomplish it.

“Ah, and this must be…” The lady said, voice trailing off towards the end as she looked at Lilly’s mother.

“My daughter, Lillian Linton.” She promptly introduced. “Lillian, this is Lady Samantha Ambrose, the Marchioness Ambrose of Battlewood.”

“Hello, Your Ladyship. It is an honour to meet you.” Lilly said timidly, attempting to curtsy as gracefully as her mother did, without dropping her doll. However, judging by her mother’s unimpressed look, it probably resembled more of a newborn goat trying to walk for the first time. Nonetheless, Lilly was thankful she did not misstep and fall flat on her face. That would have caused quite the scene indeed.

“Hello, my dear. Lillian, was it? May I call you that?” The Marchioness asked. Lilly’s eyes widened, then she nodded.

Lady Samantha bent down so she was at eye level and facing Lilly directly. “It is nice to make your acquaintance, Lillian. Welcome to Battlewood Hall.” Lady Samantha smiled at her, baby blue eyes shining with warmth and friendliness.

Lilly immediately decided that she liked Lady Samantha; she seemed like such a kind person. It was not often that other adults directly acknowledged her presence. To them, it seemed that children should be neither seen nor heard.

Straightening, Lady Samantha stood up and looked at both Mrs Linton and her daughter, still smiling. “Tea will be served in the parlour, follow me.”

She turned and walked away, with both of her guests trailing after her.

* * *

The three of them were settled in a small pink drawing room, a place that Lilly deduced was specially reserved for Lady Samantha– if her attire was anything to go by. Lilly and her mother were both comfortably seated on a pink chaise longue, being plyed with homemade biscuits and tea.

Lady Samantha and Mrs Linton chattered away, catching up on missed events in each other’s lives during their period of absence.

Lilly restlessly swung her legs and played with the teacup in her hands, small fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim. After some time had passed, she sighed loudly, capturing the attention of the two women who turned to look at her.

“Lillian, is there something not to your liking?” Lady Samantha enquired.

Lilly panicked and frantically shook her head, not wanting to displease her gracious host, lest her mother give her an earful later on.

The Marchioness gazed at Lilly for a few moments, then lowered her eyes as she arrived at a realisation.

“Originally,” She began to softly explain. “I asked my son to join me and greet you both so you two could meet each other.  For the past few weeks, he has been sulking around the manor ever since his closest friend, our neighbour’s son, went off to Eton. He seems so lonely and I thought another companion would be good for him. However he has also been quite stubborn and doesn’t want to listen to anything his mother tells him.”

She closed her eyes as she sighed and shook her head. Opening her eyes, she looked at Lilly directly. “I’m sorry that he couldn’t be here to keep you company.”

Her expression quickly brightened as inspiration struck. “Why don’t you amuse yourself and take a look around the house instead, dear? You can ask any of the servants to give you a tour.”

Lilly’s eyes lit up at the prospect of exploring this maze of a house, it seemed like an open adventure awaiting her. She looked at her mother with pleading eyes, silently begging for permission.

Mrs Linton nodded surreptitiously, a small smile playing around the edges of her mouth.

“Yes, please.” Lilly excitedly said to Lady Samantha.

“Ah, before I forget, one last thing. Make sure to stay on this floor and do not go up the stairs. My husband’s rooms are on the first floor and the Marquess does not like to be disturbed while he is working.” Lady Samantha warned.

Lilly solemnly nodded in understanding. After setting her teacup down carefully on the table in front of her and grabbing the doll she had placed on the chaise longue, she eagerly rushed out of the room.

Lady Samantha turned to her old friend, clearly amused. “Well, she certainly has your spirit, wouldn’t you agree? She reminds me of how you like when we were younger.”

Mrs Linton chose to respond by grunting noncommittally, continuing to sip her tea.

* * *

Battlewood seemed like a labyrinth– expansively filled with halls, rooms and mirrors. Portraits, paintings and statues adorned the manor at every turn, with furniture and curtains embellishing the otherwise empty spaces within the rooms.

Lilly always liked to do things for herself, even if others dictated otherwise, saying that she needed supervision or assistance. Rules were meant to confine little girls like her from having as much fun as possible. Every time someone tried to do something for her that she could do herself, she saw it as a disguised challenge– only fuelling her determination to prove herself as more than capable.

It was for this reason that she turned down the repeated offers from the staff to help show her around the place. The look of perplexity on the servants’ faces from her adamant refusal sent a surge of gleeful satisfaction through her. Undoubtedly, they were completely bemused at this tiny spitfire of a girl, brazen enough to turn her nose up at social niceties and conventions. Torn between being unable to protest lest they appear inhospitable and having the responsibility of looking after her, the hapless staff was confined to the shadows, forced to discreetly keep a watchful eye on her as she explored the manor.

She heeded Lady Samantha’s words and after passing the entrance hall, resisted the temptation to go down the hallway that led to the stairs. She instead skipped across to another corridor, her doll swinging around helplessly from one hand as the sound of her footsteps pattered off of the walls.

While she was traipsing down one of the many ornate hallways, Lilly heard something that made her stop dead in her tracks.

**_Clank, clank, clank!_ **

What an odd sound. Her interest piqued and she decided to follow the noise, making sure to walk as quietly as possible. The sounds grew louder as she drew closer, finally stopping in front of a closed door.

**_Clank, clank! Clankclankclankclank! Clank!_ **

She winced and reached up for the polished doorknob with her free hand, slowly pushing the door open a tiny bit so she could peer through the crack.

Inside the room sat a young boy on the floor, his back facing her. The only distinguishable feature she could make out from the distance was that he had smooth, straight, black hair cut short. He was picking up small wooden objects next to him and dropping them in something that was in front of him, producing the same dreadful noise that had intially brought her there.

The boy sighed frustratedly and muttered under his breath.

“…stupid things…just won’t go…can’t fit…”

Confused, Lilly pushed the door open a bit more so she could hear what he was complaining about. Unfortunately, as she did so, the door creaked loudly and the sound reverberated throughout the room.

The boy stiffened, his back ramrod straight. Slowly, he turned around to face her– somehow managing to maintain his uptight posture, cold eyes narrowing as they focused on her.

“Who are _you_?”


	2. M-eeting

**ˈmēdiNG** : to make the acquaintance of someone for the first time

* * *

 Moments passed as Lilly was rooted to the ground from the boy’s arctic glare across the room.

Thawing, she blinked and gulped. She backed away, slowly turning the knob as she quietly shut the door in front of her.

“Hey, I was talking to you!” A muffled voice called from inside the room.

Just as she was about to turn and run back down the hallway, rapid footsteps resounded and the door flew open.

The boy stood directly in front of her, appearing to be around her age– maybe older by two years at most. With pinched eyebrows and a downturned mouth, his eyes flashed as he regarded her, eyes that she found to be rather…captivating.

They reminded her of the ocean on a cloudy day, a sight she had witnessed a handful of times whenever Papa had taken them all to the beach. Matching the colour of the water, the boy’s eyes were a peculiar shade somewhere between blue, green and grey. The longer she stared at them, the more she was fascinated, especially with his dark gaze intently trained on her.

“Excuse me, I asked you a question.” The boy scowled.

Lilly snapped out of her reverie and focused her attention fully to the matter at hand. “W–what?”

“I asked you: who are you? And more importantly, what are you doing here? Do you make it a habit to spy on people?” He demanded.

Lilly blinked at him owlishly a couple times. Then she remembered why she was there in the first place and grinned.

“Hello! My name is Lilly– Lilly Linton– and I really like piggies, especially yellow ones! I heard noises from here. Are you Lady Samantha’s son? Do you want to be my friend?”

The boy stared at her for a few moments longer and– _slam_! The door flew shut right in front of her. The sound of footsteps receded until they stopped, only to be replaced by the same clanking sounds from earlier inside the room.

It took Lilly a few seconds to process what had just happened. She scowled and rammed the door open, stomping towards the boy.

“Hey! I asked you nicely! Why are you so rude?” Planting her hands on her hips, she glared at the back of his head.

He paused but did not turn around. “You didn’t answer my questions, so why should I answer yours?”

“What ques– oh.” She rapidly blinked. “Well, uh, your mama invited my mama to tea and my mama decided to bring me and I heard some loud noises so here I am.”

She smiled broadly and widely spread her arms, although it was not of much use. The boy’s back was still facing her, his position unchanged.

He grumbled something under his breath too low for her to distinguish and then said, “I see. Yes and no.”

“What?” Lilly frowned.

“You that word a lot, do you have a hearing problem?” The boy enquired.

“ _No_.” She asserted. “And why are you saying ‘yes and no’?”

He slightly turned his head and sent a sidelong glance at her. “To your questions from before: yes and no.”

“Oh.” Lilly blinked rapidly before her eyebrows knit together. “But why don’t you want to be my friend?”

“Well, we just met. Also, I don’t want to be friends with someone who spies on others.”

“I didn’t spy! I told you, I only heard some loud noises!”

With the immense willpower of a four-year-old, Lilly resisted the overwhelming urge to huff and stamp her foot. That would have been most unbecoming of a proper lady such as herself, of course.

“Indeed?” The boy did not seem to be paying much attention to her anymore, head tilted down distractedly at something in front of him.

Lilly’s curiosity got the best of her. Bewildered, she stepped closer to stand next to him and looked at what he was so intently focused on, realising it was the source of the noises that had drawn her there to begin with.

Scattered on the floor next to the boy lay wooden blocks in an assortment of different shapes. In front of him sat a wooden box, with perforated slots cut to match the shapes of the wooden blocks.

She stared unblinkingly for a few moments, unsure of what to think.

“Uhhh, that’s an interesting toy?” She finally offered.

His lip curled and the smallest finger on his left hand twitched.

“‘ _Interesting_ ’.” He scoffed. “What is the point of it being ‘ _interesting_ ’ if it cannot work properly?”

“Huh?” Lilly failed to see any problems with the box.

“Look,” the boy impatiently pointed out as he forcefully dropped the different blocks into the box through the corresponding slots. When all but the last two blocks were gone, both rectangular shaped, he pointed to the slots. “They don’t fit in any of the slots and can’t go through,” he huffed in explanation as he lined up the two blocks next to each of the slots.

“Oh. That’s the big problem?”

Slowly turning his head, he icily glared at her. “Pardon? What exactly do you mean by that?”

In that very moment, Lilly was internally grateful that looks could not kill. Otherwise, she would have instantaneously solidified into a human-flavoured popsicle.

She smiled, her chin tilting upwards. “I think it’s easy to fix your problem.”

His expression melted into one of incredulity. “How so?”

“I will show you.” Her smile widened as a glint appeared in her eyes.

His expression then promptly morphed into one of scepticism. Nonetheless, he graciously moved away from the box.

She knelt down where he had and set down her doll in the space between them. She picked up one of the blocks and held it up to her eye to examine it. She heard a sigh from next to her and a few moments later, a voice spoke up dryly.

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost.” Lilly smiled, still studying the block. She then leaned in to examine the top of the box, or more specifically, the slots. She heard a loud sigh and ignored it completely, nodding her head as she stared down at the box.

She set down the block on the box, lining it up with one of the round openings. She raised her arm and curled her hand into a fist.

“What are you doing? I told you, it will not go–”

**_BAM!_ **

The sound was loud enough to make the boy next to her spring to his feet, completely interrupting him mid-sentence as the bottom of her fist made contact with the block.

“What are you trying to do?! Don’t break the–”

**_BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!_ **

His yelling was drowned out as Lilly pounded on the block with her fist over and over again, the other blocks in the box rattling every time from the impact. With each hit, a bit more of the block went through the mismatched opening.

**_BAM! BAM! BAM!_ **

_Almost…Almost there_ , Lilly encouraged herself.

Bringing down her fist with resounding finality, the rectangular block pushed through the mismatched opening, crashing onto the other blocks within the box.

Grinning wildly, she turned and looked upwards at the boy standing next to her– her breath coming out in pants and the side of her smarting hand blotched red.

“There! That’s how you do it.” She triumphantly exclaimed.

The boy just looked back-and-forth between her and the box, his expression a mixture of incredulity and horror. His mouth opened then closed, only to open again and struggling to form words.

“What? What happened?” Lilly demanded, confused.

“The box…you broke the box.” The boy merely whispered, sea-coloured eyes widened.

Well, a part of it. It was _mostly_ intact, save for one particular area. From the slot, pieces of wood had splintered off with cracks appearing in the surrounding space. The outline of what had once been a perfectly annular groove now looked like an attempted circle carved by an inebriated chicken.

“Oh…” She shrugged, sweeping aside wild, chestnut-coloured strands of hair from her face. “But see? Now both blocks go in the box.” She simply dropped the second rectangular block through the altered slot.

The sharp look of disapproval the boy wore and accusing silence he wielded effectively expressed that he did not share her enthusiasm. His left pinkie twitched.

Lilly’s smile faded from her face.

She exhaled. “Fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your box. Honestly.” Lilly gritted out.

His expression did not waver as his glare switched to the box. His pinkie finger twitched again.

“I mean it.” She continued, her voice growing smaller as she looked down. “I– I just wanted to help you. You looked really mad. I thought I could make you happy.” Her hands clasped together in her lap as she twiddled her thumbs.

More silence.

She looked up at him, her widened eyes glistening and bottom lip quivering. “Please don’t hate me.”

He glanced at her and sighed deeply, finally breaking the silence. “It’s all right. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

He sat down again, next to her.

She looked at him, still doubtful. “I want to make things better.” She reached between them and picked up her nearly forgotten doll, offering it to him. “Do you want to have this too?”

He recoiled. “No! No way. Father says men don’t play with dolls.”

Despite his vehement refusal, Lilly saw something flash in his eyes. Longing? However, it vanished as just quickly as it had appeared. She probably had imagined things.

“Are you sure?” She still held out the doll to him. Better to be safe than sorry.

The tips of his ears were tinted red and his pinkie twitched twice.

“I’m sure.” His tone booked no room for further discussion on the topic. He was not looking at her anymore but downwards instead, burrowing crystals into the carpeted floor between them with the force of his eyes alone.

“Very well.” She pouted and set the doll back down on the floor. Silence wrapped around them like the chilly spring air.

Lilly shivered. Mustering courage, she asked him a question.

“Um…you know… I told you my name. What is yours?”

He looked up at her and slowly blinked, pulled away from his thoughts.

“Rikkard. My name is Rikkard Ambrose.” He said softly.

“Can I call you Dick?”

“What? No! Of course not!” He looked as if she had asked him to wear a ballerina’s tutu and perform _en pointe_ for her.

Lilly frowned. “But why not?”

She once overheard Papa call his friend Richard by that nickname, in a rather teasing tone when he said it. However, judging by the annoyed expression on Richard’s face in response, he did not seem to have appreciated her father’s sense of humour. To this very day, Lilly still could not figure out why for the life of her. She thought the name was cute.

“It sounds thoroughly undignified.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Undiggi-what?”

“Undigni– never mind.” He waved his hand in an offhanded manner while shaking his head. “You do realise you’re supposed to address me as ‘Lord Ambrose’?”

“Well yes, but…” She bit her lip. “It just sounds so…formal. And stuffy.”

“Ah, ' _stuffy_ '.” He said slowly, as if tasting the word on his tongue. “I see.”

“So…I can call you Dick then?”

“My answer is still no!” He vehemently insisted as his left little finger jerked.

“Then…what can I call you?” She huffed out. Her eyebrows furrowed as she glowered at him, her mouth downcast.

He briefly regarded her, contemplating while he tapped his chin.

“Hm. I guess you can call me Rick if you don’t want to call me by my title.” He finally answered.

“How about Ricky?”

His mouth thinned, his expression a warning to not push her luck.

“Mother calls me that, so absolutely _not_.”

“Okay. Rick it is.” A corner of her mouth quirked up. That was doable. Plus, Rick rhymed with Dick. She was sure she would be able to slowly call him Dick over time without him noticing.

For a few moments they regarded one another, attempting to piece together the puzzle of the other person in the manner that inquisitive children often had.

Suddenly, they both heard a voice from the distance.

“Lilly? Lilly, where are you?”

Lilly immediately recognised the voice as Mama’s. She was the only person Lilly knew that could combine both motherly annoyance and worry when speaking.

“Ricky, are you there?”

Well, make that two.

Lilly ran to the door and opened it, Rick hot on her heels.

“I’m right here!” They called at the same time. Then they turned and looked at each other indignantly.

“Stop copying me!”

“Hah! Speak for yourself.”

They glowered at each other.

Footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the door and they turned forward to see their mothers marching over to them. Rather, only just Lilly’s mother. Lady Samantha glided gracefully in tow behind her friend, her expression cheerful when she noticed Lilly standing next to her son.

“Lilly, what is this I hear from Lady Samantha’s staff?” Her mother demanded, hands on her hips. “You just _rudely_ refused their help outright and wandered around the place all on your own?”

“Um, well. I…” Lilly squeaked at the glossy floor, suddenly unable to meet her mother’s gaze.

“It’s perfectly all right.” Lady Samantha reassured her friend, arriving to Lilly’s rescue. “Children are always curious. I’m guessing she was with you the whole time, wasn’t she, Rick?”

“Yes,” came the curt reply behind her.

It was then that Mrs Linton registered the additional presence standing behind her daughter.

“Oh! This must be…”

“My son, Rikkard.” Lady Samantha introduced. “Rick, this is Mrs Linton.”

He inclined his head deeply as he bowed and smiled politely. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Madam. My mother has spoken very fondly of you.”

Lilly had to suppress the urge to drop her jaw. Was this the same boy she had been arguing with not even a minute ago?

“As am I, My Lord. She has done the same for you.” She responded affirmatively.

 _And what amazing manners you have_ , Lilly imagined her mother’s thoughts. _Unlike a certain daughter of mine._

“Lillian is a very well-behaved guest. Isn’t that right, Son?” Lady Samantha pressed on the previous topic.

Icicles formed in Lilly’s stomach as she remembered the way that she behaved to the Marchioness’s son could hardly be classified as well-behaved. Quite the opposite, in fact. Sweat trickled down the nape of her neck and she avoided eye contact as Mama looked at her with suspicion.

“Yes, she is.”

Her head swivelled towards him, unable to believe what he had just said. _Had he just…_

He then glanced at her with amusement in his eyes and any previous thoughts of his sincerity were immediately doused. He was making fun of her!

 _That brat…!_ Lilly fumed. For her sake, she turned away from him and sniffed, suppressing violent urges before she did something that exposed his dishonesty.

“I’m glad to see you both are getting along.” Lady Samantha smiled broadly, baby blue eyes twinkling. Lilly recalled her earlier words in the drawing room about her son’s loneliness, and she looked away.

 _Is that why he was so sad before?_ She pondered, biting her lip.

Her thoughts were cut short when her mother spoke up. “Well, My Lady, my daughter and I have imposed on you and your son enough for today so we will be leaving. Thank you very much for your generous hospitality.”

“Are you sure?” Lady Samantha protested. “I would hate for you both to leave so soon. Please feel free to stay a bit longer.”

“As much as I would like to, My Lady, I can never be away from home for too long. Especially with five other daughters at home and one tired husband to tend to all of them.” Mrs Linton smirked.

“Very well.” Lady Samantha sighed in reluctant understanding. “I shall see both of you off then. However, I expect to see the two of you again soon. It has been far too long since the last time.”

They both headed out and Lilly started after them.

“Miss Linton?” A voice behind her called. The three females stopped and turned towards the source.

“Yes?” Lilly hesitantly asked, perplexed.

“Your earlier offer of…friendship. Does it still stand?”

She grinned. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On your answer.”

“And…if I were to accept?”

Her smile grew. “Then yes. It still stands.”

In return, he smiled at her for the first time– the expression lighting up his face entirely, with the corners of his mouth turned upwards and dark eyes shining.

“That sounds…adequate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, the start of something new.


	3. B-rotherhood

**ˈbrəT͟Hərˌho͝od** : the condition/quality of being a brother

* * *

 Time passed subjectively for Lilly, in that inexplicably paradoxical manner of being slowed down for some durations, yet sped up during others.

Upon Lady Samantha’s insistence, Lilly found a substantial amount of her time spent at Battlewood, from Mama bringing her along for frequent visits. To her surprise, she realised that she looked forward to these visits a bit more each time, with hours spent exploring the manor alongside the youngest member of the Ambrose family. On rainy days, the expansive house served as the stage for the theatrical expeditions played out from their imaginations– one day a vacation island of paradise in France and another the perilous, wooded jungles of South America.

Much to Lilly’s dismay, she learnt that she could not call her new friend by her favourite nickname without him kicking up a fuss every time, causing her to give up further attempts after a while. However, after much cajoling on her part, she was able to convince Rick to play with the dolls that she had brought with her during each visit. She discovered that when he was a toddler, Lady Samantha allowed him to play with them but once he had grown older, his father had been against it and forbid him from doing so. Lilly could see that Rick secretly desired to do so again, despite his adamant denials and refusals due to propriety and filial duties dictating him otherwise.

Lady Samantha had walked in on them one time, much to her horror, while they were having a tea party with Lilly’s dolls. But upon seeing the innocent happiness radiated from both of them, her soft mother’s heart did not have to the strength to prohibit her son again for the second time. She allowed them to do as they pleased– on the sole condition that the entire affair was kept a secret from his father.

Afterwards, Lilly could not help but to wonder what kind of person Rick’s father and Lady Samantha’s husband was.

She soon received the answer to her question during her next visit.

She and Rick had been completely engrossed in a game of tick– their own altered version where one person had to hide and reach an assigned safe location before the other found and chased them. Lilly had found him hiding in a shadowy alcove and an intense hunt ensued.

She sprinted after him down a corridor that eventually led up a long flight of stairs. Barely registering the dark wood panelling and paintings that that lined the unfamiliar hallway, she cornered Rick at the end of a corridor.

“You– can’t– escape. Give– up.” She wheezed out, beaming triumphantly.

She hunched over as rivulets of sweat travelled down the sides of her face, with strands of dishevelled hair sticking out of the once-neat, shoulder-length plait her mother had braided that morning.

“Never.” He huffed in response, using his sleeve to wipe away the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

Lilly knew it was only a matter of time before he lost this round. There was nowhere for him to run– he was trapped between her and a hard place. The hard place consisting of a wall behind a propped bust of a scowling man, expressing its distaste at them both.

“What is going on here?” A sharp voice spoke somewhere beyond Lilly’s line of vision.

Rick looked up past her and immediately straightened, all traces of amusement vanished from his blanched face.

Following his lead, she turned around to face the person behind her and instinctively stiffened.

In front of them stood a much older and taller man, clad in a bespoke black tailcoat with matching trousers, his embroidered waistcoat stretched over a slightly protruding stomach. His faintly greying hair made his chiselled features and all-too familiar sea-coloured eyes appear even more stark.

Lilly found it rather easy to deduce which parent Rick resembled the most.

“Well? I am waiting for an answer.” The Marquess Ambrose’s censured and impatient expression was a breathing imitation of the portraits surrounding him.

 “It is nothing, Father. We were just playing.”

“‘ _We_ ’? And who might you be?” He directed his stare to Lilly, cold eyes assessing her tiny figure.

His presence commanded authority, that distinctive aura affiliated solely with aristocrats. It took every ounce of Lilly’s energy to remain still and not flee from the estate screaming.

“My name is Lillian Linton, Your Lordship.” She curtsied and her knees trembled as she did so, a sight that did not escape the Marquess’s notice.

“I see. Welcome to Battlewood Hall, Miss Linton. I believe I have met your mother before but not you until now. Consider my house yours for the duration of your stay.” Despite his words, the infinitesimal incline of his head and wintry tone expressed the amount of hospitality he was truly willing to extend to her.

He turned around and started walking away but at the last moment, paused and turned his head slightly, towards the direction of his son.

“Remember what I have _repeatedly_ informed you about this floor. Especially the rules in regard to privacy and disturbance here.”

He then marched off into one of the rooms, closing the door behind him with a resolute _click_ that echoed throughout the hallway.

A hush permeated throughout the air for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time for Lilly. Neither she nor the boy next to her dared to even risk breathing as they wordlessly backtracked the way they came, out of the hallway and down the stairs.

It was only when their feet touched the ground floor that Rick ventured the notion to open his mouth and speak.

“Sorry about that. Sometimes he can be a bit…” His voice trailed off.

“Yeah, I saw.” Lilly interjected. She chewed on her trembling lip. “Can we go outside now?”

He nodded, gently leading her by the hand.

They headed out to the back of the manor and passed the rest of the day competing who could chuck pebbles the farthest.

* * *

 The next three years passed by in batches– weeks were counted down until their next meeting, months were spent planning events, and seasons determined their activities: with snowballs thrown at each other in the winter and mud balls in the summer.

For this particular day, however, Lilly was excited for an unprecedented event. Instead of visiting Battlewood, the Ambroses were visiting her and her family at their estate. Her father had decided to host a grand celebration for Christmas, with her best friend and his family among the dozens of invited guests. It was the first time she would be seeing him after over half a year, due to a rather special circumstance.

Lilly tapped her foot against the snow-covered ground impatiently, standing with her parents and sisters at the top of the portico outside their country manor, receiving the arriving guests. Half an hour in and the urge to groan grew ever steadily each time a stranger emphasised just– “ _How much you have grown!_ ”– since their last visit.

But with her parents nearby, all she could do was bob her head with a painted smile in a manner reminiscent to her mother’s collection of nodding-head figures.

About two hours later, she sighed loudly, still waiting outside. All of the invited guests were in attendance, settled comfortably inside in the warm drawing room.

Well, almost. All but one of the invited parties.

Lilly rubbed her gloved hands together, her numb, reddened nose feeling like it was about to fall off at any given moment. Relenting, she opened her mouth to ask if she could head inside when she heard a rumbling noise that grew louder by the second.

In the distance, a carriage pulled into the courtyard past the open gates and Lilly’s face lit up, recognising the family crest painted on the door. She felt eyes on her and turned to her mother who was looking at her with a knowing smile.

The carriage pulled up in front of the manor’s entrance. The Linton family’s butler stepped forward to open the door and out stepped three figures of varying statures. A moment later followed two maids dressed in livery, one that she immediately recognised as the scowling nanny that had scolded her and Rick on numerous occasions during her visits. They all ascended the stairs and Mrs Linton stepped forward.

“Your Lordship, Your Ladyship, My Lord.” She curtsied, smiling at them. “I’m glad to see that you are able to attend for the festivities, especially after the recent events at your home.” She nodded to the wrapped bundle in Lady Samantha’s arms. “I trust that your journey here was well?”

“As well as it could have been, our apologies for the delay.” Lady Samantha responded warmly while the Marquess inclined his head.

Mrs Linton turned slightly back towards her husband and children. “Allow me to introduce the rest of my family, although I believe you all are well-acquainted with one of them already.” Her lips turned even more upwards as she glanced at the second youngest Ambrose.

The introductions commenced and when Mrs Linton finished, Lady Samantha spoke up. “It is lovely to finally meet you all and my friend here has said many wonderful things about each of you. Permit me to introduce the newest addition to our family.”

She looked down adoringly as she cradled the small bundle in her arms and it shifted, a tiny arm reaching out, then withdrawing from the cold air.

“This is Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, but Adaira will do just fine.”

Lilly stepped towards her, frowning. “Why does she have so many middle names?

“Taken from both sides of the family.” Lady Samantha winked at her conspiratorially.

Behind them, someone cleared their throat and Lilly turned around to see Papa looking at her pointedly.

“Lilly, I’m sure that the Marquess and his family do not want to remain standing out in the cold. Let’s join the rest of the guests inside, shall we?”

Everyone headed inside, with the servants beginning to collect their protective winter attire after they crossed the threshold.

 After she handed her coat and gloves off, Lilly lingered behind by Lady Samantha’s side as she tried to get a closer look at the youngest Ambrose member.

“Wow she’s so tiny! And her curls are so cute– and, oh! She just opened her eyes!”

Indeed she had. Sea-coloured orbs met a pair of chestnut ones, blinking sleepily before she gurgled and smiled up at her.

Lilly just looked at Lady Samantha with a mixture of elation and awe.

“She likes you.” Lady Samantha encouraged.

Turning to Rick, Lilly exclaimed, “Oh, this is all so exciting! You have a baby sister now.”

“Not really.” He pulled a face. “All she does is eat, cry or poop. Not much excitement from that.”

“Rick! Be nice.” Lady Samantha admonished.

Adaira turned her head towards the sound of her brother’s voice, squirming and reaching her arm out.

“What does she want?” Lilly questioned.

“This.” Sighing, he took out a small silver rattle from his pocket and gave it to his sister. She greedily grasped it, shaking it with vigour before shoving the end of it into her mouth.

Lilly just looked at him smugly and he rolled his eyes.

“She is going to end up spoilt.” He muttered.

 _As if you’re making things any better._ She barely refrained from retorting aloud, knowing his parents were within earshot.

Lady Samantha temporarily transferred Adaira over to her other servant, a young nursemaid, while her coat was collected by a waiting servant and then took her daughter back in her arms.

Once both families had been relieved of their outdoor attire, they passed through the tinsel and floral wreath-laden hallways, heading over to the dining room to join the already escorted guests.

Several minutes later, Adaira had drifted back to sleep again and just in time too, for they had reached their destination.

Lilly’s father stepped towards the centre of the spacious, brightly lit area and cleared his throat loudly, drawing the eyes of every person present on him.

The entire room fell silent.

“My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,” He addressed his guests. “I want to extend my deepest thanks to you all for accepting our invitation to celebrate the Christmas season with me and my family on this festive Christmas Eve. Dinner shall be served soon and afterwards, the festivities will commence in the ballroom.”

He offered his arm to his wife, leading her to her seat. The rest of the guests followed suit, taking their assigned seats as indicated from the silk printed cards laid out on the expansive, lined tables.

* * *

 To Lilly’s pleasant surprise, she found that she was seated in between Ella and Rick, with his mother and father assigned on the opposite side of him. The nanny and the nursemaid that had travelled along stood close by behind them and the nursemaid stepped forward, with her arms outstretched towards Lady Samantha.

Lady Samantha gently transferred her sleeping daughter to her, covertly prying the rattle from Adaira’s tiny fingers. With relief given to her aching arms, a soft sigh escaped the tired mother as she settled into the wooden, maroon-cushioned chair.

While waiting for the food to be served, Lilly took the time to take in her surroundings; her breath catching as she appreciated how much splendour the place had been transformed for the season.

The dining room truly shone, the sparkling crystals from the mistletoe-adorned glass chandeliers casting a soft glow as far as the eye could see– from the regal paintings on the patterned wallpaper and matching velvet curtains, all the way to the decorated foliage of holly and laurel scattered throughout on the embroidered tablecloth. The fireplace crackled in the background, the Yule log and hazel twigs providing a steady source of hearty warmth to both the senses and soul.

The highlight of the room however, was the towering tree in the corner, its looming presence clearly intended to demand admiration. Taking influence from Queen Charlotte’s example, it was bedecked from base to the very top with an assortment of ribbons, paper flowers, pine cones, beads and shimmering glass ornaments. Painted dolls congregated around the wrapped gifts at the bottom of the tree, accompanied by wax figurines of rosy-cheeked cherubs.

Lilly was pulled out of her sightseeing when the aroma of roasted venison permeated her nostrils. She turned to see that the footmen were carting out delectable-looking selections on sizable silver platters. Her mouth watered when she spotted some of the delicacies: stuffed goose, turkey over gravy, mince pies and capon, along with various assortments of soups, cheeses and fruits.

The next hour passed as wonderfully as it could for a famished eight year old. Lilly ate to her heart’s content, her stomach stuffed with her favourite foods from the Christmas feast. However, she decided that she still had room for a bit more once she spotted the pudding, just freshly flamed, being brought out. The concoction of spices, especially the cinnamon and clove, combined with the fruity, brandy-tinged scent was a siren’s call luring her to indulge.

Thus, she did.

* * *

 “A miner!”

Rick shook his head. Grabbing at the air under his chin, he puffed his chest out.

“Uhhh, a frigate bird?” Lilly asked.

He gave her an odd look and shook his head once more. He pointed to her then the fireplace behind him.

 “Krampus?” She tried again.

He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead, letting out an aggravated sigh.

“Ooh, I know.” Ella chimed in. “Father Christmas?”

“Yes!” Rick turned to her with a relieved grin. His eyes narrowed back at Lilly. “You’re terrible at this game considering that you suggested it.”

“I am not!” Lilly insisted, refusing to admit that she had never played acted charades before– only having heard about it in passing from her twin sisters. “You’re the one who can’t gesticulate properly here.”

“How so? Just _how_ is putting things in a sack a miner and grabbing a beard a _frigate bird_? And why Krampus? I was pointing to the hanging stockings!”

“I thought you were digging then doing a frigate bird’s mating dance! And it looked like you were pointing to the fire from here.” She irritatedly countered. “Excuse _me_ for not being able to read your mind.”

Rick merely rolled his eyes.

As they quarrelled, Lady Samantha watched them in amusement from the sofa while Adaira slept, snuggled against her chest. The five of them were settled in a sitting room down the hall from the ballroom after the feast, with the children too young to participate in the festivities and Lady Samantha voluntarily opting out to look after them, with assistance from her two staff members. Meanwhile, Lilly’s sisters had retired with their invited friends to the other sitting rooms, most likely gossipping about the latest events in society and playing their own parlour games.

After several rounds of charades where unsurprisingly, no one could guess correctly when it was Lilly’s turn, the three of them had moved onto a more collaborative activity. They were currently sprawled out on the woollen rug, preoccupied with forming different shapes using wooden tangram blocks.

However, this activity was not much of an improvement either as Lilly and Rick were currently stuck arguing on how to form a cyclist while a tired Ella just looked at them warily.

“No, no, no. That small triangle goes to the left of those two big ones.”

“No, it should be to the _right_.”

“But it’s supposed to be a foot in front of the bicycle’s back wheel!”

“It should still be behind the wheel, not in front!”

“That makes no sense at all! No one rides a bike with one foot sticking out in the air.”

Someone softly coughed from the entrance, interrupting their argument. Everyone turned to look at another maid that had entered the room.

She curtsied, blushing. “My apologies for interrupting. My Lady has sent me here to escort Miss Ella to her room as she says it is now her bedtime.”

“But it’s not fair!” Ella protested, blue eyes flashing indignantly. “I was having so much fun. Why is it only me?”

“Because you’re the youngest, dear sister,” Lilly calmly explained, “so you need more rest. Go sleep. Sweet dreams, Ella.”

Grumbling, Ella rose to her feet.

“Goodnight, Lill. Farewell, Your Ladyship, My Lord.” She curtsied to both Lady Samantha and her son, then exited the room with the maid in tow.

Lilly and Rick were about to resume their prior discussion when a loud wail pierced the room. They turned to Lady Samantha, currently holding a very awake and very angry Adaira, whose face had turned red from screaming as tears began to stream down her face.

Lady Samantha sighed. “Someone’s hungry. Stay here, I will be right back.”

Rising from the sofa, she went to the door and with the nursemaid in tow, approached the Linton family maid standing outside the room on duty.

“Would you be able to show me to another room currently not in use?”

The maid nodded. “Of course, My Lady.”

They headed down the hall in the opposite direction of the ballroom, walking off in a hurried pace considering Adaira’s screams had escalated to ear-deafening levels.

With silence settling in the room, laughter and the springy, lively tones of the quadrille from the ballroom drifted over to Lilly’s ears. Unable to resist, she got up and strode off.

“What are you _doing_?” Rick hissed as Lilly went out into the hall. “Mother said to stay here.”

“Then _you_ stay here.” Lilly retorted. “If she returns before I do, then tell her I went to the powder room.”

She turned to the Ambrose family’s nanny in the room and the two stared at each other wordlessly for several moments, Lilly’s defiant glare persistent as the nanny’s eyes narrowed. After what seemed like an eternity, the nanny harrumphed, breaking her stare in the grudging knowledge that she had no control over the young girl’s actions. Unless she run the risk of tarnishing her employer’s reputation through blatant disregard for the rules of hospitality towards the host’s family.

Lilly smirked gleefully as she took off in pursuit, following the music. Her feet deposited her a few paces away from the main entrance of the ballroom. Lurking in the darker corners of the hallway to avoid being seen, she leaned forward to have a closer look.

Inside the dazzlingly lit ballroom, people celebrated the night away. Small groups of people socialised animatedly around the periphery of the vast room, deeply engrossed in what appeared to be fascinating topics of conversation. Others seemed to preoccupy themselves with the refreshments at the tables, clearly not sated after their recent meal. But a majority of guests were spinning gracefully under the massive, twinkling chandeliers in time to the quartet playing near them, their shoes gliding along on the panelled dark wood floor in time to the music.

Mesmerised, all Lilly could do was stare– something that was seemingly and quickly becoming a pastime as of late.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” A voice said right at her ear.

She jumped, about to scream aloud had she not recognised who had joined her.

Turning to Rick, she glared. “What happened to ‘ _Mother said to stay here_ ’?” She mimicked his earlier words, her voice an eerie replica of his.

“Well, I remembered there was something I forgot to do earlier, so I followed you.” He simply answered.

“How were you able to slip past your nanny?” She squinted at him suspiciously.

“I have my ways.” His mouth held an impish tilt.

Her eyebrow rose, but she instead chose to address his earlier words. “What did you forget?”

“To give you this.” Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out a wrapped package, the entirety of it fitting into his outstretched hand.

“A present? For me?”

He nodded and Lilly could not help but to object. “But I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, please take it. I would be hurt if you didn’t.”

“Well…if you insist.” She conceded, tentatively accepting the present. “May I open it?”

He nodded again.

She did and gasped, the dim lighting from the hallway glinting on a tiny, nearly golden figurine.

She turned the yellow piggy, examining it in greater detail for a silent minute. She finally raised her widened eyes to his, her mouth slightly ajar.

“You remembered.” She gripped the figurine tighter as she whispered, referring to her very first words to him where she had embarrassingly exclaimed her love for yellow piggies.

One side of his mouth quirked up. “Of course. You also used to mention them often on our pretend adventures back then.”

She smiled, recalling how numerous ones would somehow involve the fearless Emperor Napoleon and his loyal comrades. She tucked the figurine and its packaging safely away within the deep pocket of her dress.

“Thank you.” She stepped forward and threw her arms around him. “I love it.”

He froze, but then his arms slowly wrapped around her, returning her embrace. It had been far too long since they had last seen each other.

The music from the ballroom slowed to a waltz and they both pulled away.

“You know…” His eyes glinted mischievously. “Just because only the adults are dancing doesn’t mean that we can’t either.”

“What do you mean?” Lilly was confused.

He stepped back, bowing deeply to her. Holding his hand out, he mockingly deepened his voice and said:

“ _Miss Linton_ , will you grant me the honour of this dance?”

She stared at him, then caught on, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically. She curtsied and took his hand.

“Why, of course, _My Lord_.” She graciously accepted in an equally ridiculous falsetto.

Naturally, they were both rather clumsy at it. A pair of single-legged storks hopping around would have passed more for a waltz than their attempt. Especially as they kept trampling on the other person’s feet and awkwardly crashing into one another multiple times. But after a while, they seemed to grasp a semblance of rhythm, supporting each other and moving to their own made-up steps matching the tune’s tempo.

He whirled her around with a flourish and giddy with happiness, she laughed. He joined in too, and for those few moments, they both were blissfully lost in their own enchanted world. The music slowly faded as the dance came to an end, the final notes resounding in the air.

They let go, identical grins on their faces and cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Merry Christmas, Rick.”

“Merry Christmas, Lilly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The[ tangram block layout ](https://image.jimcdn.com/app/cms/image/transf/none/path/sb0abad0b84d20c80/image/ic522da90a34f14c6/version/1407216741/tangram-cyclist.png)of the cyclist that Lilly and Rick were trying to make.
> 
> A historical tidbit for anyone interested: from my research, the origin of the phrase “Merry Christmas” is rather murky, having been recorded as far back to the year 1534, where Bishop John Fisher sent a letter to Thomas Cromwell, wishing him a “mery Christmas”. The phrase was often used during the holiday season and became heavily mainstreamed in 1843, with the first commercial Christmas card printed with the greeting “A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to You”. The same year, Charles Dickens also used the phrase in one of his prominent works, A Christmas Carol.
> 
> However around the same time, the word “merry” started to be associated with a more negative connotation, by referring to noisy jolliness and even slight intoxication. The phrase was questioned for its morality, from suspicion by Methodist churchmen seeking to promote sobriety in Victorian society during the Temperance movement. Ergo, the phrase “Happy Christmas” was also used in lieu, evidenced by the closing salutation in Clement Clarke Moore’s 1823 poem, “The Night Before Christmas”. In more modern times this substitute became widely used in the U.K., after Queen Elizabeth II would wish her subjects a “Happy Christmas” in her annual Christmas broadcasts.


	4. R-ivalry

**ˈrīvəlrē** : competition for superiority or for the same objective

* * *

Sometime shortly after the holiday season ended, both Lilly and Rick commenced onto the next crucial stage of their life: education. As expected of a proper Englishman’s son, Rick was promptly sent off to Eton once he had turned ten years old, initiating the shedding of boyhood and the arduous transition into manhood.

It was during this time that Lilly felt quite lonely and spent most of her time in the family library, occasionally sneaking off to her father’s study for additional reading material. Knowledge followed next in line for her passions and books served as the vessel to explore her voracious pursuits.

It had been a gloomy day in the late fall when she was quietly perusing through her father’s biggest atlas, seated in front of the sizable wooden desk in his study while he worked.

Glancing up from his papers, he smiled as he saw his daughter absorbed in thought, a crease between her brows as she faintly frowned down at the pages containing the world map.

“Is something the matter?” He questioned curiously.

She looked up at him, brown eyes slightly widened in surprise. She looked smaller in comparison to the tall Atlas barely contained in her lap, one hand curled around the top of the spine to secure it upright.

“Well, yes. Sort of.” Flipping to-and-fro between the pages, her fingers pointed to the various red lines marked on one of them. “I noticed these on each of the maps. What are they?”

Mr Linton glanced down to what she was looking at, and raised a questioning brow.

“What do you think they are supposed to be?”

Lilly’s frown deepened. “Hm, maybe…decoration? To make the maps more colourful?”

He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head and chuckled. “Interesting assumption, but not quite. Those are trade routes.”

“Trade routes?”

“Yes, the common paths that traders use for exchanging goods from other places far away.” Upon seeing his daughter’s unimpressed reaction, he continued with a levelled look. “Trade is far more important than you think, Lilly. It has served as the driving force for many events and is a strong tool for power and wealth.”

At that, Lilly’s expression lit up excitedly, her eyes gleaming. “Really?”

Her father’s gaze slightly softened upon seeing the genuine curiosity his daughter held. She was a rather peculiar creature, bold and taking interest in matters others often overlooked. In many ways, she reminded him of his younger self.

“I see it’s time for a history lesson then. Hand the Atlas to me and bring your chair over here.” He instructed.

She promptly followed his directions and he spent the rest of the afternoon regaling her with all sorts of interesting tales of the world’s past while they flipped through the different maps– some with happy endings, most of them with sad ones, but nonetheless, all of them venturesome and pivotal.

* * *

A few days after, Mr Linton instructed the family governess to begin Lilly’s formal education. At first, his wife was rather confused, wondering as to why their daughter was to be subjected to the process at an earlier age than their older daughters had been. However, that changed after he had explained to her his rationale on Lilly’s precocious nature and she as well supported the notion.

Lilly was excited too– well, at first. Her spirits were dampened when the governess also insisted on etiquette training and embroidery lessons, two activities that Lilly did her best to hide away from in a secluded part of the house. The former only achieved reprimands and the latter perforated her fingers instead of the cloth.

However, the distaste for these two subjects was matched equally in fervour for history and linguistics. She eagerly pored over historical accounts from international resources, being denounced as a “bluestocking” snootily by her older twin sisters, Anne and Maria. This only earned them Lilly’s retaliation in the form of colourful phrases in various languages, with her picking them up from additional books tucked away in the darkest corners of her father’s library and not in her instructional material.

The one time Lilly had cursed at them in Portuguese, her mother had been within earshot. Mrs Linton had gasped and tears sprung to her eyes– but not from happiness. Consequently, Lilly had received an extensive earful of a lecture and a stinging bottom right after, being forced to promise that her mother would never hear such foul, unladylike words uttered from her again.

Lilly kept to her oath, ensuring that her mother was not nearby each time she swore at her two sisters under her breath.

Her visits with Rick were much less frequent, with him being at Battlewood occasionally throughout the year when on break from school. His demeanour had altered too, although still relatively cheerful around her, Lilly found him to be slightly more muted and withdrawn. She had questioned him about it during their first reunion after his return from Eton and he had been surprised at her observations, opting to claim denial and feign tiredness.

Lilly knew better nonetheless, and decided not to broach the topic, sensing that something had occurred which he did not wish to discuss. She diverted to the subject of her education, her gloating at starting at an earlier age than her sisters quickly devolving into complaints towards etiquette training. She vocalised her scornful sentiments of the entire notion, proclaiming that whoever invented it meant for it to serve as a torture device with the sole intention of controlling females.

He smiled wryly at her comment. “I can’t say that I disagree with you entirely on that. Don’t worry too much about it though; we males have our own fair share of challenges too.”

“It can’t perhaps be any worse than…” She paused and gave a mocking gasp, dramatically covering her mouth with one hand. “…being forced to balance books on your head and smile at the same time, can it?”

He snickered at her exaggerated display. “Maybe not quite as horrific.”

* * *

Their time together over the next few years was less livelier physically, both having outgrown the stage of childish actions such as “playtime”, with half of their time spent with comfortable silences and the other half with passionate debates on whatever caught their interest, something that Lilly looked forward to immensely. Unlike her sisters, Rick did not mock her for her perspectives, instead choosing to entertain her by challenging them with his own.

Lilly felt like she had someone who she could relate to with Rick. As much as she dearly loved Ella, her personality and hobbies were as opposite to her own as the day was to the night. She often looked at Lilly with an expression akin to pseudo-understanding whenever Lilly tried to share her thoughts, and after a while, Lilly gave up on the notion, deciding to spare her sweet younger sister the extra confusion. It was during those moments Lilly was even more grateful for her closest friend’s presence in her life, often looking forward to their next meeting where she could hear what he had to say to her outlandish ideas.

The next time her mother was going to Battlewood for a visit, Lilly accepted her offer to attend alongside despite feeling a twinge of disappointment knowing that Rick would not be there. Time off from his school would not be starting until two weeks after but Lilly used her mother’s invitation as a temporary remedy to the recent headaches induced from her studies. Being cooped up indoors with books all day was starting to affect her psyche and she desired for a change of pace. 

Ella was invited as well, enthused to dote on the youngest Ambrose. She adored the toddler and the sentiments were reciprocated. Adaira had taken a liking to her as well, whether it was for her kind nature or finding a kindred spirit in another individual that was the youngest of the family, Lilly did not know. Both Adaira and Ella seemed to enjoy each other’s presence and that was all that mattered to her.

When their carriage pulled up to the cobblestone courtyard, Lilly was surprised to see the Marchioness Ambrose outside, ready to meet them.

As soon as they all had exchanged greetings, she spoke up, her face flushed in excitement.

“You’ll never guess who is here!” She grinned, twinkling eyes focused on Lilly.

“No…it can’t be.” Lilly said incredulously. “Rick?”

Lady Samantha’s answering smile just grew wider.

“But how? I thought he wouldn’t arrive for a few weeks?”

“He’s visiting briefly. Something came up at his school and he was given leave for a couple of days. He just arrived hours ago.”

“Well if that’s the case, you will have to excuse me, Your Ladyship.” Lilly sped off towards the manor, ascending the steps.

“Wait!” Lady Samantha protested. “But he’s not–”

She was too late. Lilly had already disappeared inside, a distance away to hear her words.

After asking a few of the maids where he was, they directed her to the family library. She opened the door and burst into the broad room.

“Rick!” She exclaimed when she caught sight of him, still in his customary school clothing of the black morning coat and pinstriped trousers. “Your mother said you were…”

Her voice trailed off when she noticed that they were not alone.

She registered the unfamiliar third person in the room, her eyebrows shooting up when she focused on the stranger standing next to Rick, an amused smile on their face.

“Oh! Um, I didn’t realise I was interrupting. My apologies.” She looked back-and-forth between the two other people in the room, then looked down, heat burning through the tips of her ears.

“That’s all right. It is of no consequence.” A sleek, cultured voice spoke up, reflecting the same amusement she saw on the stranger. “Won’t you introduce your lady friend to me, Rick?”

Lilly looked up sharply, meeting the stranger’s gaze head on as the last phrase of his words replayed in her head. _Introduce your lady friend to me_ …

One of the few useful things that Lilly retained from her etiquette class was that social inferiors had to be introduced to someone considered their superior and that normally women were introduced to men first, not the other way around.

Unless the male was considered of far more substantial importance than any other female.

She regarded him warily, instantly distrusting the stranger’s attitude despite his seemingly easygoing demeanour. Something about him seemed…off, although she could not quite place her finger on what it was.

He appeared to be a few years older than Rick, with a similar lean yet taller build. However, that was as far as resemblances extended. His appearance could not be any more contrasted with her friend standing next to him. He had wavy blond hair, combed back with strands falling over his ears, as well as a nose that was slightly curved over. Light, steel-blue eyes prodded at her appraisingly and Lilly felt akin to a rodent caught in the gaze of a hawk.

“Er, of course.” Rick cleared his throat, gesturing to her. “This is Miss Lillian Linton. Lilly, this is Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Linton.” Lord Dalgliesh bowed deeply and slowly, disturbingly not breaking probing eye contact with her as he did so. “You have been mentioned on numerous occasions.”

“Likewise, My Lord.” Lilly curtsied, refusing to break her returning stare despite the goose-flesh on her arms and the growing urge to shiver with each passing second. “However for some reason, Rick has failed to mention you even once.”

 _Voilà_.

Another skill etiquette lessons had given much to Lilly’s grudging interest was how to assess others under the _pretence_ of sugar-coated tones and fake smiles. Her subtle verbal jab made its mark and for the briefest second, Lord Dalgliesh’s expression flickered. Annoyance and wounded vanity glimmered in his prideful eyes, and Lilly could tell that he was often on the receiving end for blushing cheeks and blind praises given his aristocratic background. She could see that he judged her no differently than other males did, with haughty dominance disguised under gentlemanly conduct.

Besides her father, Lilly had only known one other male to be an exception to this attitude.

She glanced at Rick to see him looking lost, staring at them both with mingled confusion and suspicion. Lord Dalgliesh blinked and his façade was back in place as he struggled to form a response.

“Is that so?” He finally decided to ask her.

His tone was pleasant but Lilly still sensed the veiled loathing from his end and felt the urge to slap some humility into him. However, she knew that was completely out of the question given that they were not alone. Thus, she settled on the next best option.

Smirking, she ignored his question. “Excuse me for intruding on your private time. I will take my leave. It was…enlightening to meet you, Lord Dalgliesh.”

He inclined his head, his smile unwavering although it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Lilly’s smirk deepened in the knowledge that she had struck a nerve and she curtsied, departing from the library. Exhaling, she released the tension in her shoulders that had escaped her earlier notice, and retreated to another part of the house in search of Ella.

* * *

Around an hour later, Lilly was dozing off in one of the drawing rooms when she heard a _click_.

She slowly opened her eyes to meet a pair of narrowed, sea-coloured ones staring into her own from the doorway.

“Can we talk?” His tone brooked no room for refusal.

She glanced sideways at Ella and Adaira, snuggled side by side on a sofa surrounded by books. Ella’s reading aloud had been interrupted and as a result, the two girls were looking at her and Rick completely baffled.

“Yes.” She rose from the chaise longue and followed him out of the room.

He did not pause or look behind him once as they passed through several hallways. When they had reached an empty corridor, he slowed and stopped.

He whirled around to face her.

“What was _that_?” He demanded.

Lilly blinked, unprepared. “What was what?”

“Earlier.” He glared at her. “Why were you so rude?”

“ _Me_?” Lilly indignantly shot back. “Your _friend_ was rude first. What kind of person just demands that other people be introduced to him? Where are his manners?”

“I think you are forgetting yours. He’s a Peer of the Realm.”

“Peer of the Realm, my foot.” Lilly spat. “That doesn’t give him the right to be so…so arrogant! How did you even end up as friends with someone like him?”

“He’s not what you think!” Rick countered defensively. “He’s a good person. In school, he protected me many times from the other boys when they tried to–”

He cut off abruptly, his jaw clenching and his pinkie twitching twice with the delayed awareness that he had divulged too much information.

Lilly’s eyes widened. She stared at him in shock for a minute, her mouth slightly ajar. She swallowed, abandoning all formulated retorts on the tip of her tongue. Her voice was diminutive when she spoke again.

“I…see.”

Hardened eyes met hers and she sucked in a breath, immediately aware that they had breached upon a closed subject. One that was tightly screwed and bolted shut, even to her.

She bit her lip, looking down at the ground. “I won’t ask about him anymore. Let’s return back.”

They did so in silent concession, each not knowing what else to say despite the tumult of thoughts resounding within their minds.

* * *

True to her word, Lilly did not mention the clandestine subject or Lord Dalgliesh in the knowledge that the situation was something beyond her comprehension. In her following visits over the subsequent years, she also did not see him in Battlewood either. Of course, all of said visits with Rick after their argument were planned and not without notice. Not taking herself for a fool and neither deciding to delude herself with notions of luck, she knew deep down that was an unspoken compromise Rick had given her– reciprocated consideration of not putting the other in an undesired position.

However, for the current day she was unsure of what to expect as she sat squished with the rest of her family in the cramped carriage heading off to Battlewood. It was Rick’s sixteenth birthday and the entire family had been invited for the event. Recalling how Lady Samantha had sent over a professionally calligraphed invitation weeks ago, Lilly was certain that many others had also been on the receiving end for one given the Marchioness’s outgoing disposition.

However, Lilly’s concerns centred on a certain person that she was certain was invited. She tried to reassure herself that she would make herself scarce and avoid his presence altogether the best she could. If there was no other way to avoid Lord Dalgliesh, then she would force herself to be civil at least for the sake of her friend and family present.

When they arrived at the manor, Lilly could hear people chattering lively. They had arrived a bit late, and thus the servants escorted them to the ballroom where the festivities were already taking place.

The Ambroses went over to greet them as soon as Adaira spotted them and notified her parents. Rick, who had been surrounded by a gaggle of young ladies, was dragged away by his younger sister.

His face broke out into a smile once his eyes landed on Lilly and she felt warm inside. It almost made her forget about the constricting corset that her mother had squeezed her into that morning. Almost.

Once greetings and birthday wishes were exchanged, Rick guided Lilly by the arm to a quieter section of the ballroom near the refreshment tables.

“I am now officially two years older than you.” He crowed boastfully.

She rolled her eyes and poked him in the chest. “Strictly speaking, about one and a half. Don’t get too far ahead of yourself there.”

He faked mock hurt, one hand clutching at where her finger had been. “You wound me, Miss Linton.”

She scoffed amusedly, and reaching into the silk pocket of her peacock blue dress, withdrew a small, square-shaped package.

“This is for you. I wanted to personally deliver it.” She held the package out to him.

“May I open it?”

She nodded and he did so, his eyebrow quirking as he withdrew a handkerchief from a brown, flat case, analysing the subtle, embroidered borders on the white linen.

“I, um, made it myself. Since my sowing skills improved. I made so many of them so I thought you might like one.” She explained, hoping that he would not misunderstand her intentions and assume the possible societal implications that typically came with such a gift. She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck as his fingers traced over the stitched cursive initials in one corner.

_L.L._

He looked up at her from under his lashes, dark eyes blazing into hers as he grinned. “I love it. Thank you.”

He stored away the empty box within his trouser pocket and tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of his patterned waistcoat. It was then that Lilly took in his attire. He was dressed to the nines for the occasion, donning a bright waistcoat that was accented by a new, bespoke black tailcoat with matching trousers and dress shoes.

Realising she had been blatantly staring at his form longer than necessary, she hurriedly glanced away, the tips of her ears turning red. She scanned the crowd, squinting in confusion when she noted something amiss.

“Where’s your friend?” She asked him. “Lord Dalgliesh?”

He frowned. “He said that he would not be able to attend as he was otherwise occupied.”

“Oh.” Lilly blinked. She felt a sense of short-lived relief that dissipated into anger upon seeing the crestfallen face of her best friend. She was annoyed by the audacity from that hook-nosed nasty of a lord to forgo an important event of someone that admired him greatly.

He abruptly changed the subject. “Look at what Father gave to me earlier today.”

Reaching into his waistcoat pocket again, he withdrew an item and held it in his outstretched hand.

“Oh my.” Lilly’s eyes widened. “Is that…?”

“Yes.”

She stared awestruck at the open pocket watch. Rick snapped it shut and engraved on the lid was the prominent Ambrose family crest, with a lion and a rose, the background filled out by stormy waves.

Lilly looked up at him with a smile as he pocketed the watch and looked back at her with a matching expression, his dark eyes gleaming proudly.

“He told me that it was time to pass it on to me and that I had come of age.”

Before Lilly could respond, a sickeningly-sweet voice interjected.

“Oh, and who might this be?”

Lilly turned to look at the source, her eyes landing on the same group of ladies that had been talking to Rick earlier. They appeared to be around her age as well, their expressions sour enough that one would have assumed that their regular diet consisted of lemons. They were dressed lavishly– the visual pinnacle of haute couture with bright, lace-trimmed gowns that far out shadowed her own and elaborate hairstyles that were undoubtedly all the rage from France.

They were glowering disdainfully at her, noses upturned as if they had smelled something rancid. The one that had spoken stepped forward, eyes narrowing as she looked back and forth between them both. She plastered a fake, pearly smile on her face as she turned to Rick.

“I believe I have missed the pleasure of meeting this young lady. Would you be so kind to introduce her to us?”

Lilly felt the urge to physically wipe the smile off of the smug, spoilt minx in front of her. What was it with people and the desire to boost their already swollen egos by stepping all over other people?

Rick looked at the interrupter in bewilderment for a split second before composing himself. “Most assuredly. Miss Linton, this is Lady Eveline Maria Westwood. Lady Eveline, this is my longtime friend, Miss Lillian Linton.”

The young lady’s smile disappeared from her face and transferred to Lilly’s when they realised that he had done the opposite of Lady Eveline’s demands and instead placed Lilly in the position of importance.

Lilly curtsied. “Maria? I have a sister of the same name. She’s actually here attending the celebration as well.”

“Is that so?” Lady’s Eveline’s expression was a transparent indicator for her lack of concern.

“Yes.” Lilly continued in a saccharine-saturated tone. “I should introduce you to her. I have a feeling that the two of you would get along quite splendidly.”

“Perhaps later then.” Lady Eveline waved dismissively.

She abruptly switched targets. “Lord Ambrose, you left us all abruptly earlier. Lady Caroline was eager to hear your entertaining stories from Eton.”

Her chin nodded towards another lady standing nearby that blushed and looked away, batting her eyelashes bashfully.

“Um yes, my apologies. Shall we resume?”

The ladies voiced their agreement but insisted that they return to their prior location, tugging him away by the hand. Lilly stepped forward, intent on following them when a figure blocked her way.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but you should keep your distance.” Lady Eveline sneered at her, her voice nasally.

“Excuse me?” Lilly was taken aback.

“You most certainly are not. You can’t just waltz in here and take him away like you own him.

“What?” Lilly glared. “I could say the same for you and your little friends. He doesn’t belong to you or _anyone_ for that matter. He’s not some shiny trinket for you all to obsess over.”

Lady Eveline disregarded her words. “Lady Caroline has fancied him for some time and I will not allow a commoner like you to be in the way.”

She sauntered away before Lilly could retaliate.

Lilly’s nostrils flared as she replayed what had just occurred. How _dare_ that pampered brat dictate what she could and could not do? And just _who_ did this Lady Caroline think she was, claiming people as hers like they were objects? She charged over to where they were all gathered, ready to prove them otherwise.

However, as Lilly tried to pass through the cluster of young ladies standing around Rick, some of them towards the back saw her and kept shoving her away, their sharp elbows refusing to grant her entry as they dug into her already tender ribs. Changing her method of attack, she attempted to join the conversation, only to have multiple ladies with their eyes already trained on her speak out simultaneously and loudly, auditorily blocking her out.

After numerous fruitless attempts, Lilly decided to give up as her vocal cords felt strangled and her abdomen battered.

She felt her eyes prickle and her chest throb with each heaving breath, knowing that she could not bear to spend one more second in the ballroom’s suffocating atmosphere.

She scanned over the crowded area at the guests and musicians. When she found her parents and some of her sisters occupied by talking to others throughout the vicinity, she used that to her advantage. She furtively slipped out through the entrance, ducking quickly to avoid being seen.

She headed outside, stomping away from the manor with the intention of solitude. She travelled away from the gravelled pathways, her slightly mud-capped boots depositing her at a small grove of trees.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Lilly growled, slamming her fist against one of the gnarled tree trunks.

Her outburst startled the birds settled in the branches above and they flew away, their wings rapidly flapping to escape the fearsome sight of an enraged adolescent female. The tree’s bark dug painfully into her fingers and she pulled her hand away, the impacted areas of her reddened knuckles stinging.

She muttered curses under her breath, frenziedly pacing back-and-forth until she could no longer ignore the burning soles of her feet. She hated feeling helpless to defend herself, but she hated propriety even more for demanding that her gender act well-mannered and appear angelic at all times. She found it simply unreasonable and _ridiculous_ that males could challenge one another to a duel with firearms, but the same courtesy was not extended to females. Currently, she felt wrathful enough to challenge multiple people at once to a showdown, specific targets clearly visualised in her mind.

She grumbled at the unfairness of the situation, punching her scratched fist against the open palm of her other hand.  Glaring fiercely at the manor in the distance, she could hear the music and sounds of laughter carried over, an unwanted reminder of what awaited her.

Of what she could not enjoy.

She scowled.

Looking away, the realisation of how alone she was set in. Even in seclusion, the peace that she so longed for was simply unattainable, with the clamour of her thoughts even harder to ignore.

She jolted out of her internal tirade when someone spoke up from beyond the trees.

“So _this_ is where you disappeared to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things regarding this chapter:
> 
> 1\. I didn’t want to delve into it too much within the story but I will elaborate here a bit in case it was too vague: Regarding what Rick didn’t want to talk about with Lilly, it was some of the grittier details of his days at Eton. English public schools at the time were (and still are apparently) rather brutal environments for learning. Verbal and physical bullying was notorious, especially towards younger students. That being said, students would rebel against the faculty too. In one instance during the 1700s, after the headmaster in Eton tried to flog a student, around 160 students threw their textbooks into the River Thames and then went to a nearby town, excessively eating and drinking before heading back to the school. If anyone is interested, you can look more into it online. There are a bunch of sites that discuss the issue, with more specific examples from Eton especially. Although problematic, I felt that this was something that should be mentioned and I wanted to make this story feel as realistic as possible.
> 
> 2\. Yes, I know that in the official series, Lilly and Mr Ambrose have a considerably wider age gap than they do in this story (implied to be somewhere around 4-6 years). However if I kept that element here as well, it would be way more awkward to write. Hence, I altered the age gap.


	5. O-ppugn

**əˈpyo͞on** : to call into question the truth or the validity of something

* * *

Lilly jumped, unprepared for the familiar voice, and reluctantly turned towards its direction.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back inside enjoying the festivities?” She sullenly questioned, her glower directed at the ground.

“I could ask the same of you. Why did you leave suddenly?”

She heard footsteps and a pair of polished dress shoes followed by black trousers appeared in the upper periphery of her vision, emerging from behind the grove.

Lilly looked up sharply, seeing her closest friend stare down at her with both confusion and concern in his eyes. Ignoring the pressure welling behind her own, she scowled, feeling even smaller and more defenceless with the considerable height difference between him and herself.

“Well, it’s not like it matters, does it? _I’m_ not the ‘birthday boy’ here. I presume that my presence is not required as much as yours is. Go back to entertain your _female_ guests.”

His eyes widened and his brows furrowed even further at her words. She could hardly blame him for his reaction– in fact, she herself felt irritated for her irrational behaviour, increasingly so for being unable to pinpoint its cause.

“What happened, Lilly? Is everything all right?”

He stepped forward, one hand outstretched towards her and she bristled. The notion of being pitied, especially by him out of all people, made her grit her teeth and square her shoulders.

“I’m fine. It’s not like you would even care otherwise.” She scoffed.

He stiffened. Crossing his arms, his eyes narrowed as they scanned over her.

“And what makes you say that?” He demanded, tilting his head.

“Well, you seemed so occupied with talking to all the other ladies. Since today is your special day, I suppose you enjoy being in the centre of attention. Don’t let _me_ ruin your big moment.” She herself was unsettled at her bitter tone.

“‘Centre of attention’? To what exactly are you referring to?”

“Oh, for crying– do I have to spell out everything for you?! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how all the ladies batted their eyelashes and clung to your every action? How Lady Caroline blushed each time you so much as looked in her direction? How Lady Eveline simpered at your words?”

Confounded, his alarmed expression provided more than an adequate answer to her questions.

She continued. “Now you know. You can go back inside and have those females fawn over you. Don’t waste your time worrying about me.”

“And don’t you think you’re exaggerating here? They’re all well-mannered guests my mother invited and very pleasant to converse with– which is more than what I can say for you right now.” He fired back.

 _Well-mannered, my arse._ Lilly mentally cursed as her ribs remembered the way those ladies had treated her.

Wrath coursed through her veins and her hands balled into fists.

“Fine! Like I said, if their company is so much more enjoyable then _go away_ and join them.”

“No.”

“ _No_?”

“No. Not until you give me an answer and tell me why you’re acting like this, why the other ladies bother you so much. What did they ever do to you?”

“Nothing!” Lilly denied hotly. “But it’s obvious you don’t want to be here stuck with an unladylike brat when you have a bunch of well-mannered ladies at your beck-and-call. So just leave already!”

Her eyes began to sting and she turned away from him, blinking rapidly.

Silence.

She waited for a few moments.

More silence.

No sound of retreating footsteps as she had expected.

Exhaling, she turned back to face him– only to see that he was staring at her as if attempting to solve a complex arithmetic equation.

“What?” She bit out.

Awareness dawned on his features, arriving at a conclusion unknown to her. His eyes reflected triumph, enlightened by hidden knowledge that she did not possess.

“What is it?” She pressed him again, wariness trickling in.

“It bothers you.” He stated smugly. “You don’t like seeing the other ladies talk to me, especially Lady Caroline and Lady Eveline for some unfathomable reason.”

She gasped.

“It does _not_!” She sputtered indignantly. “Why should it bother me if some spoilt ninnies want to cling to you? You are free to talk to whomever you wish.”  She insisted, nose upturned as she crossed her arms.

Rick just looked at her silently, biting back a laugh.

She glared at him, genuine anger in her glistening eyes, and abruptly, all traces of mirth from his expression were wiped out.

“I’m going. I came here to be left alone in peace and you won’t even let me have that.” She spat. “Go back and talk to those rich heiresses, _especially_ Lady Caroline if you like her that much.”

She spun around, about to storm off when a hand firmly clamped around her wrist. Her head snapped towards him, ready to spew expletives when she saw the expression on his face and froze.

Sea-coloured orbs clashed with deep brown ones. “I don’t need a rich heiress!” He declared. “I don’t want them! I don’t want anyone but you!”

She inhaled sharply, shock vaguely registering at the implications behind his words. Steeling herself, she whirled away from him, pulling free out of his grasp. Upon facing him, her eyes flashed as she met his gaze head on.

“Prove it!”

Two words. Just two small words but together carrying enough weight to dangerously tip the scales and send them both careening towards the unknown.

Conflict brewed in his eyes, torn between accepting the challenge or bowing out in gentlemanly fashion. Then resolution formed and hardened, his mind made up.

Taking determined steps, he stood directly in front of her. Much closer than what polite society permitted.

Her breath caught. What was he planning to do?

Slowly– almost hesitantly, he lifted his hand towards her face. Smooth fingers brushed the top of her cheek, touching delicately, to her utter disbelief.

“I...”

She waited for him to finish his sentence.

Albeit unsuccessfully.

His mouth closed and opened as he tried again, the tips of his fingers still softly pressing into her skin and causing shivers to run down her spine.

“Lilly, I…”

Why would he not stop gasping like an air-asphyxiated fish and just finish his sentence already? Why did she not want him to stop touching her face? And why did not having an answer to the previous question grate at her thoughts so much?

Lilly waited for him to continue, hoping it would distract her from the strangely comforting sensation of his fingers, but it seemed that he just could not make it past those two words.

“Lilly– Lillian, I...”

Her eyes all but fell out of their sockets. Had he ever called her directly only by her complete first name before? Sure, he called her “Lilly” when they were alone and when propriety required it, “Miss Linton.” But Lillian? She couldn’t recall any incident to mind. Surely, what he had to say must have been of due importance!

To heighten the peculiarity of the situation– and her bewilderment– she noticed that his ears were tinged red and the muscles in his jaw were clenched.

All of that was forgotten, however, when she met his eyes.

They were blazing, searing into her own– akin with an emotion that could almost be described as passion.

 _Almost_ as if trying to convey a message, one she found that she could not quite understand.

“Yes?”

Surely this was not her speaking! Her voice would never sound this timid and unusually breathy. No, this was _definitely_ someone else who had taken control of her vocal cords. She tried to say something– _anything_ – but for some odd reason, her voice had buried itself in her throat and refused to leave. Her heart hammered in her chest and blood pounded in her ears.

His long fingers curled as they slowly trailed down the side of her face, caressing her cheek.

She startled, feeling disoriented from his touch, his gaze. Involuntarily, Lilly leaned in and craned her neck to look up, studying his face that was only inches away from her own. Had he always been this breathtaking? He was a chiseled sculpture come to life, sea-coloured eyes drawing her in and beckoning to drown in them.

His hand dropped from her face and she automatically pulled back. To her surprise, she felt a twinge of disappointment from the absence, almost believing that the action had been from a phantasm, a mere figment of her imagination.

 _Almost_. The skin of her cheek burned, as if branded.

She felt a soft pressure on her hand, and looked down to see his hand taking hold of hers and bringing it forward between them. His other hand joined in, both of them dwarfing her own as they clasped it and gently squeezed.

She looked back up at him, finding that his eyes had not strayed from hers the entire time. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, inhaling sharply.

When he spoke, his voice was hushed and Lilly had to strain her ears to hear him.

“Lillian, I lik–”

A high-pitched voice pierced the air.

“Rick!”

They simultaneously repelled apart– opposite poles demagnetised, and turned towards the source of the voice, footsteps rapidly approaching in their direction.

Adaira ran up to them, her breath winded and her hands propped on her knees as she hunched over.

“Mum is looking for you, Rick. Why are you and Lilly here?” She gulped in lungfuls of air before looking up at them and then frowned. “Why do you both look like that?”

Lilly stared at her, taken aback for a second, then vaguely registered an inferno flaming across her face. She discovered she couldn’t bring herself to look towards the person standing next to her and both of them seemed at a loss for words.

Licking her lips, Lilly opened her mouth to set the situation straight and dispel any illusions.

“I, um…”

Clearing the squeak from her throat, she tried again.

“We…uh– well…”

“Never mind it. It’s probably some strange grown-up stuff.” Adaira huffed as she rolled her eyes. “Hurry back inside. Before Mum worries more and comes here too.”

She turned around and took off, dashing back towards the manor, taking with her all and any semblances of conversation.

The moments that followed could only be described as the loudest silence Lilly had ever experienced– taut with tension and filled with unspoken words.

Unspoken hopes.

She suddenly had to fight the violent urge to clamp her hands over her ears.

Her mind was racing– replaying the scene that had, contrary to her internal pleas of insistent denial, just occurred merely moments ago.

What had he been about to say before his sister had found them?

Partly from shock and mostly from dread, she sighed. Facing straight ahead towards the direction that Adaira had departed, she scraped the last of her remaining courage to speak.

“Um, we should head back inside.”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw the person standing next to her also face forward, his expression not betraying the slightest hint of emotion and his posture ramrod straight save for a twitching left pinkie in _allegretto_.

Stiffly, he jerked his chin downwards in a curt nod and Lilly took that as her cue, stepping forward and woodenly walking back towards the manor.

She knew he was following directly behind her despite being able to only hear her footsteps echoing among the silence.

With his gaze boring into the back of her head, she was rendered incapable of hoping otherwise.

* * *

When they both reached the manor’s entrance, they parted ways. Lilly stealthily snuck back into the ballroom, through a curtained door hidden in one of the alcoves– an advantage provided from her childhood days of exploring the manor.

At the same time, Rick returned through the main entrance, the guests turning towards the person of honour for the esteemed occasion.

Lady Samantha stepped forward. “Rick, is there a problem? Adaira said you were outside?”

Adaira popped out from the crowd upon hearing her mother’s voice, joining them both.

“Yeah, he was outside with–”

At that very moment, Rick shot Adaira a warning look and she quelled into silence instantaneously, clamping her lips.

Their mother’s eyes narrowed, darting back-and-forth between them before finally settling on her son.

“No, I just needed some privacy.” He spoke up. “And fresh air. Mostly fresh air.”  He quickly added upon seeing his mother’s unchanged expression.

She sighed. “That’s understandable, I suppose. However, do say something before you decide to excuse yourself. It isn’t in good form to our guests when you run off without saying a word.”

“My apologies, Mother.” He said solemnly. “It will not happen again.”

Lilly raptly watched the interaction from her corner of the ballroom, her ears straining to pick up every word of the conversation in the distance when a familiar figure stepped in front of her, blocking her line of vision.

She glanced up and registered the customary sight of her mother glaring at her, hands planted on her hips.

“Young lady, where were you? Your father and I were looking all over the ballroom for you and your sisters said they hadn’t seen you either. One of my friends wanted to greet you earlier since she hadn’t talked to you in years.”

“I, um, was here in the ballroom the whole time. You must have not seen me then.” She nervously scratched the back of her neck as she held her mother’s gaze.

Mrs Linton said nothing for several moments, sharp eyes drilling into her daughter’s identical ones.

“Is that so?” She retorted, her tone denoting how convincing Lilly’s lie was.

Lilly gulped, dropping her gaze.  Her energy was drained as the adrenaline from the shock of earlier events wore off.

“Yes.” She said hoarsely, her voice coming out no louder than a hushed whisper.

“Lilly, are you well?” She heard concern seeping in her mother’s tone and looked up to see the sentiment also etched into her features. “You look a bit a pale. Are you feeling ill?” Reaching out, Mrs Linton firmly pressed the back of her hand against Lilly’s forehead.

“Hmm, no fever.” Mrs Linton frowned, perplexed as she withdrew her hand.

“I’m fine, Mama. I just feel a bit tired, is all.” Lilly exhaled. This time she was telling the truth. Mostly. Her feet were sore and with every breath, her aching ribs protested against the confines of her corset. “How much longer is this party going to last?”

“Not much longer, I suspect. Some of the guests look like they’re almost ready to leave.” She looked at her daughter sympathetically as she continued. “Just stay here if you’re tired. I’ll let your father and sisters know that I found you. When we’re leaving, I will come back for you.”

She strode away, disappearing into the multitude of people.

Looking back towards the direction she was focused on before her mother’s arrival, Lilly was met with a different sight.

Rick was still with his mother and sister, but this time surrounded by more guests. To be specific, the same crowd of ladies that had all but thrown themselves at him earlier– with a demure Lady Caroline and a sparkly-eyed Lady Eveline among the frontlines– still laughing and chattering away in a desperate bid to get his attention. Her heart sank as she saw that it seemed to work since he was smiling and nodding along with them.

Or was he?

She observed for several moments longer, picking up on small signs that made him seem rather…unnatural.

A locked jaw. Resigned eyes. Taut posture. Stiff movements.

Lilly sighed and tore her eyes away from the scene, not wishing to further ponder about the situation and its possible meanings. Her shoulders drooped as she turned around and found a chair nearby to slump down in, sighing again as she closed her eyes.

* * *

To Lilly’s immense relief, the rest of the party passed rather uneventfully. True to her word, her mother returned back for her some time later– whether it was minutes, hours or _days_ , Lilly did not know and nor did she care. She wanted to return home, change out of her constricting attire and bury herself under the bedcovers in hopes of forgetting all of the events that had transpired for the day.

Her cheek and hand tingled in objection to her thoughts and she quietly groaned, knowing that oblivion would not be so easily achieved.

She dragged her feet as she walked behind her mother, as if iron fetters were clapped onto her ankles while she trudged over to join the rest of her family already waiting outside.

She descended the stairs outside to the courtyard and saw they were not alone. Their hosts stood nearby, currently preoccupied with seeing the other guests off.

Lilly’s father turned towards them when he heard the two pairs of footsteps, an astute gaze focusing on his daughter as she approached.

“Is everything all right? Your mother said you disappeared earlier during the party.”

“I’m fine, Papa. I just…wanted some quiet.” She looked away, breaking eye contact.

His eyes did not waver from hers. “I see.”

He scrutinised her for a few more seconds, then his stare slid over to the birthday celebrant, a pensive crease between his eyebrows.

Abruptly, he shifted his focus back to Lilly. “Well, it has been a long day. I suppose it’s best that we return home now.”

No sooner had he finished his sentence, the Ambrose family turned to them. Lilly’s parents and sisters said their farewells to them while she stayed back.

Finally, it was her turn. Stepping forward, she dipped into a graceful curtsy to the Marquess while he wordlessly bowed. His wife gave a much warmer farewell, immediately pulling her in for a hug and making her promise to visit again soon enough.

Crouching down for Adaira, she also gave her a hug. As she was about to pull back, Adaira clung on, her mouth next to Lilly’s ear.

“Don’t worry. Mum doesn’t know you and Rick were together.” She whispered, then withdrew.

Lilly blinked, unsure of how to react. She settled for nodding and gave her a weak smile.

It faded as she stood up and turned to the last Ambrose member. Neither sure of what to say and refusing to meet each other’s eyes, they stayed silent while everyone else present looked at them curiously.

Rick bowed and Lilly curtsied hesitantly, clearing her throat as she straightened.

“Er, many happy returns of the day.” Her fingers dug into her dress as she fidgeted.

“Thanks.” Rick muttered.

She sighed, looking up at him. She tried to smile but her facial muscles refused to comply, the corners of her lips twitching before contorting downwards into a grimace.

“Farewell.” She whispered.

His eyes met hers, sorrow reflected in them. The sight made her suck in a breath. Besides that, she could also see…regret?

Before she could dwell on that thought, he spoke subduedly, with his mouth set in grim determination.

“Till we meet again, Miss Linton.”

If only they both had known then just how long that would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time answers many things.


	6. S-eparation

**ˌsepəˈrāSH(ə)n** : the state of being moved apart or the act of severing contractual relations

* * *

Sleep eluded Lilly that night. She tossed and turned, robbed of a tranquil rest as her thoughts were wracked. A spectre plagued her dreams, his sea-coloured eyes flashing through a series of emotions: first annoyance, then amusement, and finally settling on longing– his expression paralysing her in place. His hand reached out towards her and she found that she could move again. She turned and ran, glancing back only to see him looking at her in confusion, which then immediately morphed into pain. Her heart spiralled into frenzy as the raw emotion contorted his boyish face, ever growing smaller in the distance.

Her mind would not grant her the slightest respite as the sequence of events mercilessly repeated on in an endless loop. When she gasped awake, she was drenched in a cold sweat, with her hair plastered to her face and her chest heaving.

She slowly sat up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness as her feet swung over the side of her bed and she hunched over. Inhaling raggedly, she stood on the ground with unsteady legs, the cool wooden floor bringing her back to the land of the conscious.

Reaching over to the ceramic pitcher on the small bedside table, she poured herself a tumbler of water. She drank it greedily, her dehydrated throat grateful for the offering. She firmly set the empty cup on back on the oak surface, licking her parched lips as she padded over to the window.

Drawing back red-and-russet patterned curtains, she peered outside through the glass and pushed up the painted frame. A gust of the chilly morning spring air burst inside and pelted her senses into complete awareness, also helping to dry the sweat-soaked nightgown that currently clung to her like a second skin.

She stuck her head out the window and for several lingering moments, allowed her eyes to freely wander over the idyllic country landscape. The shadows of the night were retreating as the sun began to slowly rise over the horizon.

She shut the single-hung sash window and retreated back inside. Frowning, she contemplated on what to do next. She turned back to her four-poster bed, the crumpled beige sheets and strewn pillows a lacklustre reminder of her unpleasant night.

Knowing that sleep was not a valid option anymore, she shook her head. She changed into a thin morning dress and picked up a strewn shawl draped over one of the chairs, wrapping it around herself. Heading outside her room, she shuffled along to the kitchens, picking up a lit chamberstick along the way.

The head cook was already at work, ordering the servants about for preparation of the day’s meals. When he spotted Lilly, he could not help but to exclaim in surprise.

“Miss Lillian! What are you doing awake this early in the morning?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Sleep evades me. Could I have something prepared to eat?”

“Why, of course. Anything you wish.”

“Just some porridge. My appetite is rather weak.”

Around half an hour later, Lilly was comfortably seated at the empty dining table. With her spoon, she pushed the porridge around in the bowl, taking her time to eat– but not for the purpose of savouring. The small bites she swallowed were tasteless, more simply for the intentions of filling her empty stomach and distracting her thoughts. However, it appeared that they were insufficient for the latter purpose.

The servants proceeded into the dining room, setting various morning dishes on the table. Shortly after, her parents arrived, surprised to see their daughter arise before them as they joined her for breakfast.

“You’re awake early.” Her father remarked.

“Well, yes. I…I couldn’t really sleep.” Lilly explained.

Her parents exchanged a worried glance, but nonetheless, remained silent.

The rest of her siblings joined them at the table, also surprised to see that Lilly had risen earlier than they had. Her twin sisters, Anne and Maria, scrunched their noses in disdain when they saw her meal of choice for the morning. They opened their mouths, clearly about to spit out a nasty remark, when their mother caught their eye and glared, wordlessly warning them to not say a word. They retreated sullenly, choosing to keep to themselves as they discussed the party from a few days prior.

Ah yes, _the party_. No matter how Lilly tried to tune out her sisters’ conversation, it was of no use. The events of that particular day were not a hallucination, no matter how much she tried to convince herself as such in the following days, confining herself to her room in an attempt to shut herself in with the stack of books on her table. However, her wandering mind kept straying from the first few lines of every page she turned, retreating into its own recollections.

At the very least, the past two days could be summarised as an utterly unsuccessful attempt to purge the memory of her embarrassing behaviour.

She idled at the table long after she had finished her meagre breakfast, waiting for the rest of her family to do the same as her fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on the pristine, woven tablecloth. She was about to excuse herself when a voice called out.

“My Lady?”

One of the servants entered the dining room, approaching Mrs Linton with an envelope.

“Urgent correspondence for you, My Lady. From Battlewood.”

Lilly’s head shot up, eyes trained on the servant as he stepped forward, delivering the letter to her mother.

Mrs Linton’s brow furrowed with the letter held in her hands, while all eyes at the table looked at her in curiosity, one pair more so than all others.

“Hm…that’s strange. Maybe it’s a thank-you letter?”

Opening it, she silently read the letter. She inhaled sharply, her eyebrows raised while her eyes widened. All colour drained from her face and she swallowed hard, reading the letter one more time in confirmation.

The table had gone deathly silent as the minutes passed. Panic set in for Lilly as the expression she saw on her mother’s was one she had only seen a handful of times in her life– each associated with a dreadful event.

Gertrude had the most courage to speak up first, albeit cautiously, softly asking the question that was apparent on everyone’s faces.

“Mother, what is it?”

Mrs Linton looked up, her eyes flickering around the table before ultimately settling sombrely on Lilly’s.

Lilly froze as frost tunnelled down her spine and settled in her gut. Something had happened and while she did not know what it was yet, there was one thing about it– without a doubt– that she absolutely knew.

It was _not_ something good.

* * *

The ride to Battlewood was deathly silent.

Neither person dared to speak as the carriage rattled along the path to its intended destination at top speed. Lilly stared out the window almost motionlessly as if she were a statue, the occasional blinking of her eyes in addition to the soft, steady rise and fall of her chest the only indicators of her living state.

Her mind was hyperactive, trapped within the maze of her own ruminations. She briefly recalled how she had arrived in this situation, leaning over the table and all but snatching the letter out of her mother’s hands. She had frantically scanned over the elegant cursive of Lady Samantha’s handwriting, only registering a few words out of the entire page.

_Help…argument…missing…_

_…gone…_

_He’s gone._

Everything was a blur after that. The letter had fallen out of her grasp and the next thing she saw was her hand reaching out for an outdoor dress in her room’s wardrobe. Afterwards, the courtyard as her mother climbed into the carriage and turned back to notice her, saying nothing as she held the door open.

And here Lilly was, her mental state a reflection of the sky’s current state– both clouded and grey.

The carriage slowed to a halt and Lilly turned to look at her mother who had already been intently assessing her from the opposite bench. After a few seconds, Lilly gave her a shaky nod and was met with a sharp one in return.

The carriage door opened and her mother stepped out first. Lilly followed, her boots landing on the expectedly smooth surface of polished courtyard. Out of habit, she looked up, observing the manor in front of her.

Usually she felt excitement and comfort from the sight, the estate taking her breath away with its magnificence and sheer size.

This time her lungs felt stolen of oxygen for a different reason entirely. Against the gloomy setting, Battlewood Hall cut an imposing figure as it loomed over her ominously.

Leering at her. Taunting her.

The sound of footsteps made her eyes travel down, focusing on the approaching figure that she easily recognised as Charles Elsby, the steward. He was accompanied by a young servant, whose apprehensive expression did little to appease Lilly’s frayed nerves.

“Elsby. How is everything?” Mrs Linton gravely enquired.

“Mrs Linton.” He greeted, his aged face appearing older than Lilly remembered, the stress a tell-tale sign and confirmation of the information she had been refusing to accept. “His Lordship has refused to leave his study and Her Ladyship is…”

His voice trailed off and Mrs Linton understood the message.

“Where is Hastings?” She changed the subject, curious about the butler’s disappearance.

“I sent him along with the other servants to search for Master Rikkard. They’ve gone to ask the local townspeople for any information. I myself plan to leave now and enquire at the tenant farms as well.” His solemn expression hardened.

“Boy.” He addressed the servant next to him. “Go escort Mrs Linton and her daughter to Her Ladyship immediately. Report to me any news upon my return.”

He looked back at Mrs Linton and Lilly, bowing to them. “My apologies for the lack of time– and the circumstances– to converse. Farewell.”

He turned away, hurriedly marching towards the stables. Lilly and her mother looked at the servant, who smiled sheepishly in response.

“This way, if you please.” He said nervously, looking as if he were about to faint at any given moment.

Luckily he did not and managed to stand upright as he led them both to the pink drawing room that Lilly was all too familiar with. When they entered the room, Lady Samantha was turned away from them, seated in a light rose-cushioned wooden chair that was facing the window.

“Mrs Linton and her daughter, My Lady.” The servant announced.

“Thank you.” Lady Samantha croaked, her position unchanged. “That will be all for now.”

The servant bowed deeply and left.

Some moments of strained silence followed until Lady Samantha shakily arose and slowly turned to face her guests.

A sharp tug of pain twisted at Lilly’s chest when she squarely looked at the tear-streaked face of Samantha Genevieve Ambrose. Her bright blue eyes, usually so warm and lively, were replaced with agony and despair, red-rimmed as they shone with more unshed tears. Her trembling, fisted hand held a crumpled handkerchief that was undoubtedly worn down from repeated use.

“Thank you for being here at my request.” She hoarsely rasped.

Lilly swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. She suppressed the urge to cross the room and tightly enfold the heartbroken lady in her arms, instinctively aware that it would be too forward considering the Marchioness’ fragile state.

Fortunately for Lilly, her mother seemed to know what to do, as always.

“Of course.” Mrs Linton spoke reassuringly. Stepping forward, she reached out and gently led Lady Samantha over to the sofa by the arm. Sitting down next to her, she reached towards the table nearby and picked up a little bell, ringing it.

Less than five seconds had passed when a young maid scuttled into the room and curtsied.

“Yes, My Lady?” She asked, straightening.

Her eyes registered the other two people in the room, blinking as she saw Mrs Linton holding the bell, then widening as she noticed the distressed condition of her mistress. Her worried gaze darted back to Mrs Linton, who perceived it as her cue to talk.

“Could you have some tea brought here immediately?”

“Um, of course, Madam. Will that be all?”

“Yes, that will be all.”

The maid curtsied, then scurried out of the room in her eagerness to abscond from the dreary atmosphere.

Lilly and her mother turned back to look at Lady Samantha, whose cheeks were wet as a fresh round of tears streamed down.

Setting the bell back on the table, Mrs Linton took her friend’s hand in hers and clasped it, while her other hand soothingly rubbed circles into Lady Samantha’s back. This time, Lilly decided to break the silence, her voice gravelly.

“Papa went to gather men to help with the search.”

Her mother piped in. “I sent him as soon as I received your letter.”

“Thank you.” Lady Samantha hiccupped, then forcefully wiped her tears with the handkerchief from her free hand.

As Lilly was debating on what more she could say, Lady Samantha spoke up again, her eyes closed as she hung her head and her shoulders drooped.

“My sweet, kind boy. I just want him back.”

A lone tear slid out of her eye and her voice cracked at the end, as well as a small but significant piece of Lilly’s heart.

“We _will_ find him.” Mrs Linton squeezed her hand. “He couldn’t have gone far.”

They settled into a tense silence for some time until the maid returned, balancing a silver tray laden with the necessities for tea in addition to varied pastries and sandwiches, setting it on the table. For the entire duration, she remained focused on the tray with occasional glances upwards, but still pointedly refused to make eye contact, especially with Lady Samantha.

 “Thank you.” Mrs Linton spoke kindly. “You may take leave now.”

The young maid curtsied and hurriedly departed again, casting another sidewards glimpse at Lady Samantha on her way out, her mouth frowning in concern.

Mrs Linton leaned forward, pouring the tea into a floral porcelain teacup, then adding milk and sugar. She handed it to Lady Samantha and prepared a second one that she held out to give to Lilly when she hesitated, her head cocked and her lips pursed in a silent message to her daughter.

_Why are you still standing?_

Lilly came to the awareness that she had been doing so the entire time since her arrival, her forearm currently propped against the top of an armchair arranged next to the sofa. She shook her head, refusing the tea, and stood straighter. She glanced around the room and ignored her mother’s reproachful look, her eyebrows knitting when she detected something unusual.

“Where is Adaira?” She asked Lady Samantha.

After taking a sip of her tea, Lady Samantha looked up at her inattentively. “She should be somewhere close. I assigned a few of the maids to watch over her.”

“Permit me to go check on her and see how she is doing.” Lilly offered.

She answered with a nod and Lilly left the room, uneasy at the thought of how the youngest Ambrose might be faring from the catastrophe of events.

* * *

True to the Marchioness’s words, her daughter was not too far away. Lilly found her outside at the back of the manor, tossing pebbles. Well to be accurate, hurling them forcefully with a fierce scowl lodged on her face.

A gaggle of maids fretfully watched from the shelter of the row of colonnades– at a safe distance in trepidation from becoming potential targets for lapidation by the youngest Ambrose.

They gave Lilly a wide-eyed look as she descended into view. She stepped forward, about to plant one foot into the grass when one of them called out to her.

“M-Miss, I don’t believe it’s a wise idea to go out there.”

She turned back to face them, bemused, as they clung to one another. “And just why not?”

Another maid spoke up. “Well, Lady Adaira has been rather…restless since the recent events.”

Lilly heard an aggravated growl and turned to its source.

“Well, that’s certainly _one_ way of putting it.” She murmured as the girl in the distance pelted a tree with several small stones in rapid succession.

“Don’t worry.” She did her best to assure the maids. “If I fail to return in one piece, it was at least for a noble cause.”

One of them squeaked in protest but Lilly paid no heed, approaching the smaller figure in the distance and stopping when she was a few paces away.

She cleared her throat.

“I– told– you– already!” The young girl gritted out in between each throw. “I’m fine, I don’t need to be coddled!”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Lilly said dryly.

Adaira whirled around, gasping when she heard who was behind her.

“Lilly! I, um, d-didn’t know–” She stammered.

“What do you say to taking a break and sitting with me?” Lilly raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Adaira’s sweaty face, her ebony hair tangled in a wild mess of curls.

Adaira sighed and her shoulders slumped as her fist opened, the remaining pebbles clattering around her shoes.

* * *

They found a bench to sit on nearby, still in vision of the maids but out of earshot, providing them with a limited yet much needed sense of privacy. It was only after Adaira caught her breath that she began to speak.

“Everyone is pretending in front of me that nothing is wrong and I _hate_ it. I was there when it all took place.” She huffed exasperatedly and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What was it that happened exactly? Why is Rick…”

Lilly trailed off, unable to finish the second question despite having at least a thousand more. Lady Samantha’s letter had been scant with details and Lilly lacked the courage to ask her directly about what happened lest she present herself as inconsiderate.

“I don’t know the entire story. All I remember was that shortly after the party ended, one of Lord Dogl– Dag–” She stumbled over the name and Lilly provided assistance.

“ _Lord Dalgliesh_?” She questioned in astonishment.

“Yeah, him. Someone from his staff was here and right after they left, there was shouting from downstairs. Father was roaring and Rick was shouting back. I even heard things being thrown around!”

Adaira shuddered, raising her feet on the bench and hugging her knees to her chest.

“It was so terrifying.” Her voice dropped to a mere whisper. “I thought they were going to hurt each other.”

_And they had_ , Lilly deduced distastefully. Maybe not physically, but that night had brought irreparable devastation, both emotional and mental. The whole situation sounded entirely preposterous. The worst part was that one person had instigated the chaos. Just what had Lord Dalgliesh done to tear apart an entire family? And why had he decided to callously betray someone who had thought so highly of him?

Before Lilly could explore those thoughts any further, Adaira continued.

“Then the morning after, Rick was gone. He left a note, saying that he was leaving and not coming back.” She gulped, her eyes glistening. “Elsby said that all of the horses were in the stables and the other servants said that all of Rick’s belongings were here except for the clothes he was wearing and the family pocket watch.

_Ah_ , Lilly recalled the notorious pocket watch all too well from the party, the lid emblazoned with the Ambrose family crest. She was sure that despite how proudly Rick had shown it to her at the party, taking that watch with him was probably unintentional on his part, its existence most likely a forgotten weight in his waistcoat pocket as he had stormed out of the house.

“Lilly,” Adaira began, the corners of her mouth turned downwards as her eyes filled with tears. “Do you think they will find him?”

Lilly felt something cut at her heart as she looked sideways at the vulnerable young girl with midnight hair and sea-coloured eyes, her features reminiscent of someone so close to her heart but so far away in distance. For all she knew, oceans could be between them at that very moment.

“I…don’t know.” She whispered. “I hope so.”

To her surprise, her own vision blurred as moisture flooded her eyes. Lilly blinked rapidly to chase them away but it seemed to be ineffective, the pressure refusing to decrease.

Droplets of tears began to slide down Adaira’s round cheeks. “I h-hope that he’s safe and n-not…”

_No_. Lilly’s mind clamped down on that thought, refusing to finish Adaira’s sentence. Refusing to consider the worst of possibilities.

It was then that the situation sunk in fully for Lilly. Her closest friend was gone, disappeared without a trace somewhere into the world. He was not here with her and she did not know if he ever would be, if she would ever see him again. All she could do was cling onto the hopes that he would come back soon and that everything would be fixed.

Ice flooded her veins and crushed her lungs, leaving her chest hollow and sunken when she realised how vain and childish those very hopes seemed. She let out an unsteady breath, praying that this harrowing out-of-body experience was merely a ghastly dream– conjured up by the darkest recesses of her mind and that she would wake up in her warm bed soon, wrapped up in beige sheets and her burgundy quilt.

She pinched her wrist, to no avail– the sharp sting in her skin a confirmation of the bleak reality.

She felt something press into her and looked down to see Adaira wrapping her arms around her midriff tightly, burrowing her face into Lilly’s chest as she shook with sobs. Out of surprise, Lilly hesitated for a moment before she felt moisture seep into her dress and through to the layers underneath.

Not minding that in the least, she drew the youngest Ambrose closer to her– with one hand cradling her head as her fingers weaved through the black tresses while the other hand patted her back, gently rocking her back and forth.

As she held Adaira, she felt the tears still welled in her own eyes but refused to let them fall, vowing to stay strong for the two beloved ladies that needed it.

No, Lilly decided that she would only cry when she was alone within the confines of her bedroom.

And that is precisely what happened that night and the many more that followed– her face damp every time she drifted off to a sleep constantly haunted by nightmares of an adolescent boy with raven hair and deep sea-coloured eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left until the end!


	7. E-pilogue

**ˈepəˌlôɡ:** a section at the end of the book that serves as a conclusion to what has happened

* * *

“Lilly? Lilly, where are you?”

 _Blast and damn_! Lilly internally cursed, sending a silent prayer as she fidgeted behind the potted plant.

She slowly peered out from the foliage and quickly ducked down again– just in time, too.

Her aunt’s thin, scowling face appeared from the throng of guests, vulture eyes scouring the vicinity intently.

She approached the insecure stronghold of a potted plant that her niece was using and Lilly’s heartbeat doubled its pace.

 _Don’tlookdown, don’tlookdown, don’tlookdown_! _Please please please_!

Her aunt seemed to hear her thoughts and complied. She obliviously turned her back to the potted plant, bony hands planted on her hips.

“Where did she disappear to? Troublesome girl.” Aunt Brank hissed under her breath.

She stormed off to another section of the expansive ballroom in search of her niece and Lilly let out a sigh of relief, clutching at her chest before attempting to massage her feet through the top of her dress boots.

She currently felt as if lit coals had been heaped onto them from the plethora of dances she had been forced to partake in since her arrival at the ball. She couldn’t help but to feel annoyed at the extreme lengths Aunt Brank had taken to her mother’s request at acquainting her with London’s society.

Lilly recalled disdainfully at how her aunt’s face had lit up last week when she had informed her and Ella that they all had received an exclusive invitation from some aristocrat named Lady Metcalf. She had prattled on for what felt like hours to Lilly about the event and what to expect before Lilly excused herself under the pretences of excitement and preparation.

Lilly could understand why her uncle retreated to his study save for meals occasionally and even then, he ate in a hurried manner, never choosing to converse or linger at the dining table. The sole reason he had even allowed her and her younger sister to stay in his house for the season was due to the rather special agreement from his sister and brother-in-law. For the not-so-subtle hope of their two remaining unmarried daughters finding husbands, bribery in the form of regular monthly payments covering Lilly’s and Ella’s living expenses had worked effectively on Uncle Bufford.

Nonetheless, Lilly preferred her uncle– despite his taciturnity and inclination for cheap meals consisting solely of porridge, potatoes and salted herrings– more than her aunt, who she immediately came to realise was a rather self-centred being. Having a pawnbroker and a lady whose reputation was morally suspect for parents, social status took precedence above all other items on Aunt Brank’s unending list of desires, best summarising her as a ruthless social climber. Her actions were not carried out without a cost-benefit analysis– of course, with all benefits mainly proceeding to herself. She had seen the arrival of her two nieces, the daughters of a gentleman, as an opportunity for social advancement, one that could grant her entry into England’s higher society if she managed to find them eligible suitors, given credit for the matches with her nephews-in-law.

However, it seemed that task was tougher than assumed, with both nieces presenting their own individual challenges: Ella being painfully shy to the point of making others feel like roguish villains harbouring malicious intents and Lilly, well, just by being Lilly. She abhorred the idea of being tied down to a man with the purpose of serving no more than the equivalent of an appendage.

Her strong-willed spirit, although tempered by her mother over the years, had persisted– flourished from her father’s encouragement and honed from her own experiences. It was this attitude that she had brought with her to London that particularly did not sit well with high society. Not that Lilly ever cared much for others’ unwarranted opinions. In fact, it served her all the more in keeping unwanted suitors away.

A self-satisfied smirk appeared on her face at how the more unpleasant and inappropriate gentleman she had danced with earlier were left with sore ribs and crushed feet by the end of their dance, courtesy of her fan and shoes to keep them at bay. The thought provided her slight comfort despite her still-aflame soles.

After several minutes of resting behind the potted plant, Lilly stood up, verifying that her aunt was nowhere nearby, and strode over to the refreshment tables.

Her eyes widened when she saw a familiar and welcoming sight on one table. She swiped the bar of solid chocolate and unwrapped it, chewing into it as if she were starved. Some of the guests talking nearby took notice and discretely moved further away, but decorum was the last thing on Lilly’s mind at the moment.

She had sampled the rich, velvety delicacy a few days ago through the courtesy of Eve Sanders, one of her new friends that she had met right after her arrival in London. She had been strolling aimlessly in Green Park when she had overheard Eve energetically discussing women’s rights and suffragism. Lilly had eagerly joined the conversation and spent the rest of that day sharing her views on politics and gender equality with them. Lilly had also made fast friends with the other two ladies accompanying Eve: Patsy Cusack, an impressive figure that matched a dominant demeanour, and her complete opposite, Flora Sanders, a sweet and timid soul that very much reminded Lilly of Ella. All four girls had been united through their aspiration for the patriarchy’s downfall, forming a motley group of suffragettes.

Needless to say, Lilly would have rather been at a peaceful protest organised by her and her friends than the boring ball she was currently forced to endure. Much to Lilly’s dismay, Patsy had not been able to join her despite Patsy’s mother being good friends with the host, Lady Metcalf, due to prior set plans. Ella also had escaped the clutches of attendance, having caught a nasty cold the night before. Lilly suspected that it was due to her spending most of her time in the Brank residence’s back garden, especially in the evenings– although Lilly failed to see the appeal of simple flowerbeds and a dusty shed.

A conversation nearby pulled her out of her musings and Lilly saw none other than Lady Metcalf. The old lady’s distinct, large nose and flared nostrils along with the screeching cadence of her grating voice made her instantly recognisable.

“This is a splendid ball that you have hosted, my dear. You’ve really outdone yourself this time around.” Another aged lady that complimented her did not look nor sound much better either, reminding Lilly of a croaking toad.

“Yes, yes. Most exquisite.” A third older lady chimed in.

“Thank you, Duchess, Lady Allen.” Lady Metcalf responded to them both. “It wasn’t easy, you know. Many advance preparations were involved, especially the early invitations to the more important people that graciously accepted. Those from the military and a few of the knights of the Order of the Garter– even one of the Peers of the Realm is here!”

“Really? Do tell now.” The one Lilly dubbed as the Duchess of Toadland spoke up, her protruding eyes glittering.

Lady Metcalf leaned forward and lowered her voice, causing Lilly’s ears to strain to hear her next words.

“That’s not even the best part for tonight. One of the more prominent invitees that I told you both about a while ago– the one that has been repeatedly declining my invitations– wrote to me on short notice that he would be in attendance as well.”

The other two ladies gasped.

“Oh my goodness!”

“You don’t mean…?”

Lady Metcalf nodded gleefully, dropping her voice to a whisper and Lilly could not hear her words anymore. Not that she felt it was of much loss anyway. She did not want to waste her time concerning herself with trivial affairs such as men.

Polishing off the last of the chocolate, she pondered on what to do next. The decision was abruptly made when she faintly heard a harpy’s war cry from the distance.

“ _Lillian_!”

She saw Aunt Brank on the opposite side of the ballroom, charging straight towards her. However, the crowded dance floor between them served as a delaying obstruction, one that Lilly used to her advantage.

She turned and sped past the small clusters of people, not bothering to apologise at their outraged gasps and comments when she knocked into them. Survival was the sole priority on her mind and judging by the look in Aunt Brank’s eyes…

Lilly was not sure if that would be possible if she caught up to her.

Spotting the terrace’s entrance, she raced towards it, not pausing once she was outside.

The moonlight illuminated the corner of the house, directing her to the destination of freedom and solitude taking the form of bushy gardens large enough to hide in.

She rounded the corner at full speed, ignoring the wind whipping into her face– only to slam straight into someone.

Someone that had also been outside at the back of the house as well.

Lilly reeled back, stumbling, as the impact caused her feet to sway. She glared up at the person, a barrage of curses poised to fire from her lips– when she saw who was standing in front of her.

“Oh my. Good evening, Miss.” A smooth, regal voice greeted her.

Her eyes were staring into an amused pair of steel-blue ones.

His blond hair had grown longer over the years, falling to his shoulders in waves. However, his features were still about the same, that prominent aquiline nose making it all too easy for Lilly to distinctly recall her initial meeting with the distasteful lord years ago. She shoved the memory away as it brought another person to mind that she tried to not think of and quickly looked down.

“Miss? You aren’t injured, are you?”

A hand reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder, the sleeve of his dark navy tailcoat brushing against the hem of her dress. Lilly had to suppress the urge to grab and yank the hand off, aware of whom she was dealing with.

“No, I am just…surprised.” She put on a demure act, choosing to respond with a polite, dulcet lilt. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.

 _Please don’t remember me_ , she mentally pleaded.

As per Lilly’s expectation, it seemed that Lord Dalgliesh did not– much to her relief. The first and last time that they had met was over eight years ago and much had happened since then. While she had mostly maintained a self-imposed exile from socialising, he had not. News of his presence had spread throughout the British Empire and the rest of the world with his acquisition of power over the years. He was currently the main shareholder of the British East India Company, with about as much influence as a monarch by the current standards– in charge of a trading corporation complete with its own army and intricate organisation rivalling that of a nation’s government.

She met his eyes again to see an apologetic smile on his face. It was a friendly smile. But it was a smile from a snake.

“That is understandable. My utmost apologies for agitating you. May I assist you to where you need to go?”

His voice had become more eloquent and smooth than before, Lilly observed. It had lost the nasally undertone that it once held a long while back, but his eyes were still the same. He may have learnt to conceal that arrogant glimmer in them, but those orbs were still analysing and calculating. To a person that had never met him before or only knew about his more…praised achievements, he would have been the picture of charm and manners.

However, Lilly knew better. Too much, in fact. Much more than she ever desired to know.

“No, I’m sure I can manage.” Lilly managed evenly, desperate to leave. “Thank you, but–”

A shrill cry cut off her words.

“ _Lillian Linton_! Are you out here?”

Lilly stiffened, not breathing as she heard her aunt’s voice call out mere paces away from around the corner, outside the terrace entrance. She saw Lord Dalgliesh’s eyes look towards the direction of her aunt’s voice, then slowly focus back to Lilly, his steel eyes fixing on her paling face.

“That rebellious niece of mine! When I find her, I’ll…” Aunt Brank’s voice faded as she retreated back inside.

“Well, well, well.” Lord Dalgliesh smiled down at Lilly, his hand on her shoulder tightening to a vice-like grip, effectively clamping her in place. “You seemed familiar but I couldn’t quite place my finger on why. Interesting to see you again, Miss Linton. It has been…what, many years since our last meeting?”

She chose to not deign him with a verbal response and glared to conceal her panic. But all it did was make his deceptively dazzling smile grow even wider.

Of course he had remembered her. A man of his calibre must have had an impressive memory and as proud as Lilly was to admit that she was one of a kind, she knew that the brazen way she had snubbed him long ago would not have been something for him to forget so easily. And in this case, it did _not_ work in her favour. Rather, far from it.

“Might I add how lovely you have become. Time has been kind to you.” He leaned in closer to her and cold shivers ran down Lilly’s spine as she shrank away.

He bent over to whisper in her ear. “Do give my regards to the Ambroses up north when you see them again. It has been a long while since I have paid them a visit.”

Pain seared in her chest upon hearing those words and a smirk played on the corners of his lips as he squeezed her shoulder once before releasing her. He stepped away, starting to head back inside–

“It was you, wasn’t it? You were behind it all!”

Lilly was unaware she had snarled out those words until he completely halted, his back to her. She did not completely know what had possessed her to take leave of her senses and blatantly accuse him. Maybe a suicidal wish. But all she felt was rage fuelling her at the moment. Years’ and years’ worth of seething, pent-up rage for flippantly bringing up the events that had transpired a lifetime ago, which were never openly discussed, but nonetheless, still not forgotten. Not that Lilly could ever forget.

Lord Dalgliesh had taken away something– no, someone precious to her and she would never forgive him for it. Nor would she ever forgive him for heartlessly crushing that someone who had held him in high esteem and ripping apart that someone’s family in the process for his own mysterious– but most suspectedly greedy– reasons.

Moments passed torturously until he slowly moved, ominously turning back to face her directly.

Lilly felt shivers run down her spine again in warning as his eyes met hers again, that smirk still in place. It was neither friendly nor one of a snake’s, but of a shark circling its next prey.

“I beg your pardon? I’m afraid I have no idea what you are referring to.”

“Don’t play coy with me and drop the act! It was you that separated the Ambrose family years ago. But it wasn’t enough for you, was it? You even put them into financial ruin afterwards.”

Lord Dalgliesh menacingly stepped forward, an amused smile still unnaturally plastered on his face, and on reflex, Lilly took a step back. This continued until her back flattened against the outside wall of the house. She was cornered as he approached her with measured steps, not stopping until he stood directly in front of her again.

“Ah, still bitter about the older days indeed.” He raised a golden eyebrow at her. “You have misunderstood things, Miss Linton.”

Lilly narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, and he continued.

“From my recollection, the marquess and his son had an…intense argument to say the least. As you already seem to know, one that resulted in him telling his son to leave on the night of his sixteenth birthday and his son complying, still refusing to return even to this day. As for the financial difficulties, my sources informed me that the marquess impressively achieved it all on his own with the numerous business investments that went wrong.”

Lilly refused to back down, despite the verbal salt being poured into an old wound that had not quite healed, even with time. The nails of her curled fingers dug into her trembling palms.

“But it was _you_ that caused that argument.” She pressed. “Why do it? And what did you do exactly?”

“I still have no idea to what you’re referring to. I also would recommend that you cease discussion on this topic. It does no good for a lady to go digging into insignificant details of the past– especially where she is not involved.”

Her eyes flashed, ignoring his warning. She would prove him otherwise.

“Details like how Rick still came back into the picture a few years later despite all of us assuming he was _dead_ for years? Details like how he paid off his family’s debt in full? Or details like the fact that by the time you finally noticed him, he was already too powerful for you to eliminate?”

All of the aforementioned tidbits visualised in Lilly’s mind as she mentioned them. The letter Adaira had immediately written to her after Rick had rescued their family from impending financial ruin, ecstatic shock from both parties that he was alive mingled with horror at the stories from what he had done to stay in existence. The countless newspaper headlines within the past few years centring on a certain English man with unknown roots and addressed by a different title residing in the colonies that become immensely wealthy seemingly overnight.

More details appeared in suit beyond her control, involuntarily making her eyes sting. The announcement of his arrival to London earlier in the year. Adaira telling her that he would not respond to Lady Samantha’s letters. Her asking her parents if she and Ella could visit London for a leisure trip. Her own letters delivered to his office on Leadenhall Street that had yet to receive a reply.

“As I said before, all insignificant, except for the last one– that is merely a lie.” His smile was still in place but his jaw tightened. “His affairs are not of my concern.”

“Is that so? I would have assumed otherwise given that his ventures seem to overlap with yours. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has openly influenced others to turn against you.” Lilly fired back, blinking back the pressure behind her eyes, and focusing more on her deductions from the recent dissent in India and the ongoing war in China.

His hands clenched into fists and his mouth flattened into a thin line. Lilly fought every pore in her body to remain unmoving, resisted every cell screaming at her to not meet the pair of steel-blue eyes blistering with wrath, currently inches away from her own.

He drew in a ragged breath to reign himself in and stood straighter, leaning away from her. Finally, he spoke again in an eerily calm tone.

“Now, now, Miss Linton, I would advise you to take caution of your words. It sounds like they have undermining intentions. Let me assure you, nobody usually speaks to me in such a manner. Even if someone does so _mistakenly_ , they apologise and immediately reassure me it was not deliberate. Three or four times, in fact.” His voice took on a stern edge at the end.

Lilly remained silent, petrified to her very bones.

Lord Dalgliesh tapped his chin thoughtfully. “However…since you brought up such an interesting topic, why don’t we continue this discussion somewhere more…private?”

“Um…no, thank you.” Lilly breathed out, her pulse drastically picking up in pace. She had a foreboding feeling that if she went with him, she would not be returning. “I don’t feel quite so well.”

“Oh, but I _insist_ , Miss Linton.” His eyes gleamed maliciously. “Lady Metcalf’s garden is known to be beautiful and a nice little stroll is known to improve one’s health.”

“I’m sorry, but maybe some other time. I should be heading back inside since my aunt seems to be looking for me.” Lilly turned to move, but Lord Dalgliesh swiftly stepped in her direction, blocking her path.

He loomed over her wordlessly, shadows casted over his reappearing smile, both charming and terrifying.

Her eyes darted right and left, looking for a way of escape.

“Tut-tut,” He chided, the picture of disappointment. “You wouldn’t be so impolite to turn down a gracious invitation from a gentleman such as myself now, would you?”

Her mouth opened to fling a vitriolic reply when the corner of her eyes caught movement in the distance. Her eyes flickered to the bushes and after adjusting to the darkness, she saw it.

To be more precise, them.

Solidly-built men dressed in presidency army uniforms were slowly approaching them, sinisterly lingering in the background. Lord Dalgliesh glanced behind him and turned back to her.

“My _friends_ would very much enjoy accompanying us as well. It’s been a long while since they’ve conversed with a charming lady such as yourself after being away for military affairs.” He quirked an eyebrow. “What do you say, Miss Linton?”

For the first time in her twenty-two years, Lilly saw flashes of her life appear before her eyes as she gazed upwards at the expectant nobleman. She knew that she was captured because of her impulsive, foolish whims– with nowhere to run, ironically in the place she assumed that would have freedom. She desperately wished to return back to her prior prison: the ballroom that was so close, but at the same time so far from her grasp.

Her mouth parted, attempting to stall–

_Click._

Metal glinted from the bushes followed by more sounds of revolver hammers being cocked back, arms at the ready.

Lilly focused her attention back to the bushes, eyes widening when she saw that the surprised soldiers were surrounded by burlier men in less formal clothes, yet still sporting equally nasty expressions.

One mountainous figure approached her and Lord Dalgliesh, and when they drew close enough for Lilly to distinguish their appearance, she gasped.

The dark-skinned, brawny man towered over them both, with glaring black eyes and a large beard of the same colour obscuring most of his face. A turban sat atop his head and his hand rested on a giant sabre hung at his belt.

Lord Dalgliesh took a step away from Lilly and towards the newcomer, his shoulders tense. His hand went to his belt hidden under his tailcoat as well, where Lilly suspected a holster was secured.

“Hmph.” His expression hardened as he glared at the Indian man. “I see that the personal lapdog is here. I suppose he is also in attendance then.”

The mammoth of a man stayed silent, saying nothing. A tense silence passed between them both when suddenly, his eyes cut to Lilly’s. His eyes slid over to the direction of the terrace entrance and back to her, sending her a message.

 _Go_.

She looked at him unsurely, knowing that even though she would be of no help, worried about leaving someone to face a nefarious madman masked as a dignified aristocrat in a deadly standoff.

His eyes narrowed at her. His chin jerked towards the source of light, brooking no room for question.

Lilly did not need to be told thrice.

Rounding the corner, she bolted inside, all but throwing herself back into the ballroom. The people standing close to the terrace entrance jumped in fright but she paid little heed to them– or to anything else. For her, the place was merely a blur and all she could register was her heart thundering furiously in her ears. The disjointed cacophony of sounds in the ballroom made her head pound even louder, her thoughts already in a scattered disarray. She sought refuge but with one exit barred, all she could do was head towards the other. Lilly knew that she would not be able to linger in the vicinity as what had happened outside could only stall Lord Dalgliesh for so long before he returned with his men for a second attempt in pursuit of her. As subtly as a young lady with an ashen face and shaken demeanour could traverse along the walls of the ballroom without attracting attention, she frantically paced towards the main entrance, ignoring the concerned looks that the other guests sent her.

Once the entrance was in sight, she sprinted– well pushed past the point of awareness for her errant behaviour. Her footsteps harshly slapped against the marble floor of the hallway and she looked back over her shoulder to check that she was not being followed; a small yet fleeting sense of relief given when she saw no one trailing behind her, especially a certain blond-haired lord or his personal squad of cronies.

She turned her head forward to make sure that her destination was still within sight– and abruptly crashed into a wall of impenetrable iron.

The force sent her staggering backwards and she tripped, very sure that she was about meet her demise with the polished ground.

Suddenly, strong hands reached out and grasped her shoulders, solidly hauling her upright.

The swift counteractive force made air whip into Lilly’s eardrums and bright stars appear in her vision. Out of reflex, she threw her hands out and they braced against granite. Granite covered in soft cloth.

She wobbled and hunched forward, dizzy from the harsh momentum, and the hands grasping her tightened their firm grip. Her earlier adrenaline-filled burst of energy was depleted and she closed her eyes, trying to clear her vision.

“Miss?” She heard a levelled voice call out from somewhere above her.

Her chest was heaving and her breathing was laboured. She tried to respond to the masculine tone addressing her, which consequently resembled in only wheezing. She took deep, controlled breaths to steady herself.

“Miss, are you all right?”

Lilly froze.

 _That voice_ …

It was icy, both steely and unrelenting. But…

Lilly _knew_ that terribly familiar voice and just to whom it belonged to. There was no mistaking it. Even from a crowd of thousands– no, _millions_ , she would have discerned it. It was one that she had grown up with for years, having last heard it nearly a decade ago.

Her eyes flew open to be met with the sight of a male-outfitted chest– her hands splayed across a black tailcoat and her fingers curled into the worn cloth.

She felt its owner looking down at her, sensed the hard gaze burrowing into the roots of her windswept chestnut hair.

Lilly let go and leaned back, still keeping her head down. She exhaled, bracing herself for the inevitable, and risked looking up directly at the person whose identity she had an instinctive suspicion of.

Widened brown eyes collided with dark, sea-coloured ones, the sight stealing her breath and paralysing her limbs.

He looked the same as before. But somehow, he also did not. His chiseled features were more defined and his black hair seemed even darker. The most noticeable difference was the manner in which he carried himself. An older, toughened, and stoic look-alike had replaced the cheerful, sweet boy that she cherished so dearly.

His face twitched after a moment of them staring at one another, recognition in his slightly widened eyes while looking at her as if one would at a ghost.

In that unguarded moment, she saw her old friend– the one that she had played dolls with, the one that she had danced her first waltz with, the one that she had shared spontaneous discourses with, and the one that had left a gaping, raw ache in her heart with his impromptu departure a long time ago.

His mouth opened to speak, then closed again, lost for words. He finally blinked, as if coming back to the present.

Then the moment was over all too soon. He stepped back, his hands abruptly releasing her as his face smoothed out into an apathetic mask of impenetrable stone.

Lilly stumbled and righted herself, unprepared for the sudden loss of contact. But this did not interrupt her disbelieving stare, her mouth slightly ajar and her eyes glazed over as her mind wandered back to a time of long-buried memories.

The pseudo version of Rick swallowed as he looked down at her, his height towering over hers. His face may have been expressionless, but his eyes vocalised more than a thousand words.

There was a storm roiling in them and Lilly felt like she was trapped in its midst, imprisoned by his unwavering stare.

Lilly resisted the urge the urge to squirm as a bug would under a microscope, unsure of what to say. He decided to take the initiative instead, breaking eight years’ worth of silence between them.

“Miss Linton.”

He spoke those two words softly but with enough jagged ice shards in them to make her visibly flinch. Dread pooled in her gut as she continued to look up at him and the painful truth dawned on her.

Rick was gone.

No matter how much she hoped for, wished, or even begged, the best friend that she had grown up with was a person of the past, their bond severed from the day that he had left his former life behind. His present self may have remembered her but certainly did not see her in the same way that his old self had. Time had shattered and remolded him into a different being entirely: one hewn of impenetrable, smooth stone in order to shoulder the tremendous weight of the harsh, unforgiving world all on his own. The years apart had erected an unassailable barrier of resilient steel between him and everyone else, one that nobody could ever cross over.

The bitter epiphany stabbed at her chest and she felt pressure build behind her eyes for the second time that night.

There were so many questions on the tip of her tongue that she wanted to ask him, even scream at him in an attempt to scorch the glacial atmosphere between them. However, her voice box refused to work properly, probably in the innate knowledge that it would have been futile.

He gave her a blank look as the seconds ticked by, in the expectation of her pending response.

She gulped and licked her lips, wetting them so that she could talk. But when she found her voice again, it had lost most of its volume. Her words came out no louder than a whisper as she finally addressed the stranger standing in front of her.

“ _Mr Ambrose_.”

* * *

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this story! I hope you enjoyed this AU fanfiction. It was challenging but still quite fun to write. I know that the feeling and writing style was still quite different but I tried to base it off of various quotes/concepts from the original series and have a similar tie-in to the beginning of the first book in the series.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment with any of your thoughts on this story– likes, dislikes, questions, etc. I would love feedback to help improve my writing. If there are any historical inaccuracies, please point them out and I will look into them.
> 
> The next chapter is a timeline with some character information. I know that the story was vague at certain points for the chronology so hopefully it clears up any confusion. A huge thanks to all the beta readers that gave me feedback, especially to my bf who proofread for mistakes. Last of all, a huge thank you for taking the time to read this quirky story! It's the second fanfiction for the fandom on this site and hopefully there will be more from others in the future!


	8. Timeline + Character Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realise that the story was rather unspecific at times in terms of the ages of the characters and the current dates due to constant transitioning. So, here are some lists of information for specificity.

  ** Character Birthdates: **

  * _Lillian Linton_ – born Fall 1816
  * _Rikkard Ambrose_ – born Spring 1815
  * _Ella Linton_ – born Fall 1818
  * _Adaira Ambrose_ – born Summer 1824
  * _Daniel Dalgliesh_ – born late Winter/early Spring 1811



 

** Character Age Differences: **

  * _L.L._ : younger than R.A by ~1.5 years; older than E.L. by ~2 years; older than A.A. by ~8 years; younger than D.D. by ~5.5 years
  * _R.A._ : older than L.L. by ~1.5 years; older than E.L. by ~3.5 years; older than A.A. by ~9 years; younger than D.D. by ~4 years
  * _E.L._ : younger than L.L. by ~2 years; younger than R.A. by ~3.5 years; older than A.A. by ~6 years; younger than D.D. by ~7.5 years
  * _A.A._ : younger than L.L. by ~8 years; younger than R.A. by ~9 years; younger than E.L. by ~6 years; younger than D.D. by ~13 years
  * _D.D._ : older than L.L. by ~5.5 years; older than R.A. by ~4 years; older than E.L. by ~7.5 years; older than A.A by ~13 years



* _differences are rounded since they vary depending on the time of the year_

 

** Timeline/Ages: **

  * _Chapter 1_ – **Spring 1821** : Lilly-4 years, Rikkard-6 years, Ella-2 years, Dalgliesh-10 years
  * _Chapter 2_ – **Spring 1821** : L-4, R-6, E-2, D-10
  * _Chapter 3 (first section)_ – **Spring 1821** : L-4, R-6, E-2, D-10
  * _Chapter 3 (second section)_ – **December 1824** : L-8, R-9, E-6, Adaira- ~6 months, D-13
  * _Chapter 4 (first section)_ – **Fall 1825** : L-9, R-10, E-7, A- 1, D-14
  * _Chapter 4 (second section)_ – **Spring 1829** : L-12, R-14, E-10, A-4, D-18
  * _Chapter 4 (third section)_ – **Spring 1831** : L-14, R-16, E-12, A-6, D-20
  * _Chapter 5_ – **Spring 1831** : L-14, R-16, E-12, A-6, D-20
  * _Chapter 6_ – **Spring 1831** : L-14, R-16, E-12, A-6, D-20
  * _Chapter 7_ – **Summer 1839** : L-22, R-24, E-20, A-15, D-28 



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this is helpful, please let me know if there's still any confusion or if something isn't clear!


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